


Walking Wounded

by coupdepam



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-30
Updated: 2003-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupdepam/pseuds/coupdepam
Summary: A trip to work becomes the start of a nightmare journey for Sam.





	1. Walking Wounded

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

**Character(s):** Sam, Josh, Toby  
**Category(s):** angst/drama   
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:** I don’t own the characters or the setting. However I do own a particularly sick mind ideally suited to ESF ;-)  
**Summary:** A trip to work becomes the start of a nightmare journey for Sam.  
**Author's Note:** You wouldn’t be reading it if it wasn’t for Abigale, Suilven, Mellyjane and Vicki. 

“It’s done. I’m looking at it now. It’s good. In fact it’s very good and it’s done,” Sam struggled to keep the phone tucked under his chin as he put on his coat.

“Yes Toby...no...yes...okay I’m going-” Toby interrupted Sam again and so he decided to just let him rant as he continued to collect his belongings together.

“Toby...Toby...you know what? I’m going to hang up now because instead of standing here in my apartment telling you what I’ve written I could actually be, you know, at work, showing you,” Sam smiled to himself as Toby continued to quiz him about the speech that he had spent most of the night finishing.

“Yes I know we’re meeting Mitchell in an hour...yes I know that too and if you don’t hang up there’s every chance I will still be standing ‘here’ in an hour,” Sam reached for his briefcase and in doing so knocked the speech off the table. It fluttered down to the floor, sheet upon sheet. “Okay, we probably could have done without that,” He muttered as he crouched down and started to re-order the pile of papers.

“Nothing, no nothing’s wrong Toby...I’m on my way...I’m going now...I’m hanging up,” Sam sighed loudly as he flipped his phone shut and continued to try to work out the order of the pages. Glancing at the clock, he decided that he would have to finish the task at work. Half of the pile was in order and the other half still needed sorting. He had the speech on his laptop so it wasn’t really a problem but he also knew Toby would want to see it as soon as it got in. He bundled the pages together and shoved them into his briefcase. Grabbing his keys from the side he rushed out of his apartment and to his car.

Sam threw the briefcase onto the front seat and ran around to the driver’s side. He started the engine, started to pull out then slammed his brakes on as a car he hadn’t seen whizzed by him. Okay, just slow down Sam, he told himself. The need for Toby to see the speech before staff really wasn’t worth getting his car wrecked for. He pulled out, this time checking over his shoulder twice first. It had been raining hard all morning but now the sun was breaking through the clouds. Sam fumbled for his sunglasses to combat the glare of the sun on the wet road. Unable to find them he settled for pulling down the eyeshade instead. He turned a corner and grabbed hold of his briefcase before it could slide away from him and off the seat.

With one hand on the wheel, Sam propped the case back against the passenger seat and then attempted to clip it shut. His fingers groped the metal latch as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. The sun continued to shine as a sudden downpour began which took Sam completely by surprise. He flicked on his wipers to the fastest setting. Not only was the sun still glaring but now the rain was making it almost impossible to see anything more that a few feet ahead. He pressed lightly on the breaks a couple of times and then slowed down.

‘There’ll be a rainbow’ he thought to himself and that was the last thought he had before his world was irrevocably changed by the events that followed.

He heard the scream first, then the dull thud. Between the wiper’s furious strokes he saw a figure zoom towards him and then disappear. He slammed down on the brakes and skidded in the rain before he came to a stop. He sat still for a few seconds gripping the steering wheel. The wipers continued to swish from side to side. It had stopped raining and the smooth sound had been replaced by a repetitive squeaking. Sam heard the sound of cars braking behind him and was then shunted forward violently. In the seconds of silence that followed Sam heard a scream. It shook him from his daze and he fumbled with his seatbelt before jumping out of the car. He looked at the woman whose scream he had heard. She was still screaming and Sam was relieved but amazed to see that the figure that a few moments ago had been hurled up into the air was now standing and walking and making a noise.

She was staring directly at Sam now. Her face was pleading with him as her screams were replaced with words, “Help her...please...help her,” She stopped looking at Sam and her horrified expression switched to the ground beside his car. He moved quickly and then stopped suddenly as he saw what she was staring at. Sprawled on the ground was another young woman, her body motionless but her eyes open and staring. Sam sat down beside her. He knew he shouldn’t move her so he reached for her hand. Behind him he could hear someone calling an ambulance. She felt Sam’s hand and tried to sit up but he told her not to move and asked her what her name was.

“Claire,” she managed.

“I’m Sam,” her eyes widened and she groaned. Her raspy breaths turned into coughing and Sam wiped the blood away from her mouth. For a brief moment their eyes locked. Sam didn’t care about not moving her anymore and placed her head gently in his lap. He felt her hand squeezing his but could make no sense of her mumbled words. He felt the warm blood sticking to his shirt. He watched helplessly as her eyes widened again. This time there was no groan, just a sudden expulsion of air. Her eyes closed and her hand fell limp in his.

The next thing Sam felt was someone forcefully pulling him up and away. He watched as the paramedics worked on the lifeless form in front of him. He wanted to tell them that it was no use; that she had died in his arms. Instead he walked away and back to his car.

One of the paramedics watched him go. She tried to prioritise between the still hysterical woman by the side of the road and the shocked man walking away from her. She decided to tend to the girl first; the man was just sitting in his car and by the looks of the damage the car behind had caused, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Nobody saw Sam open the passenger’s door and remove the papers from his briefcase. Nobody saw him look vacantly around and then start walking away, ‘Now I’m really going to be late’ he thought as the frantic voices and flashing blue lights faded behind him.

* * *

Toby listened to Josh explaining what they had decided to do about Mitchell to Leo.

“We’re going to show him the speech first and when he knows what the President intends to say he should back down.”

Leo nodded, “Good, show him what’s on the table but don’t discuss alternatives. I mean he’s already got what, two, three-”

“Two paragraphs,” Toby told him in a tone that suggested that it was two too many.

“Yeah two paragraphs, and there’s probably more in them than Mitchell knows about the subject anyway,” Leo sighed, “Have you read it yet?”

Toby shifted forward so that he could see through the doorway, “No, and I won’t be happy until Sam walks through that door and actually hands me the damned thing.”

Leo moved on to the next item and nobody paid much attention to Sam as he quietly entered the room, passed the papers to Toby and went and sat on the seat furthest away from them.

Toby had felt the papers shoved into his hand and frowned as he continued to listen to Leo and shuffle them back into some form of order. He felt something sticky on his fingers and wondered how Sam had managed to spill coffee on them during the short distance between his car and Leo’s office. He wiped his hand across his trousers and started to look at how much damage Sam had caused. He didn’t recognise the red stain for what it was at first. His mind filed through a list of alternatives before he looked at his deputy, his stomach turning as he realized exactly what the stain was. Sam was sitting forward, his arms wrapped around his waist.

“Sam,” Toby called his name, cutting Leo off in mid sentence. Toby sprang from his chair and moved quickly to Sam’s side. The others watched in alarm as, despite Sam’s protests, Toby un-wrapped his arms and pulled his jacket open. CJ gasped and Josh cursed as Toby revealed his blood-soaked shirt. Toby sat beside Sam who still tried to bat his hands away. Josh moved to his other side and held his arms as Toby frantically pulled his shirt from his pants. Finding no wound on his front, Josh pulled him forward so that Toby could look at his back. Satisfied that the blood was not Sam’s, Toby eased him gently back against the sofa.

“What’s happened Sam?” He looked at Josh and Toby, his face void of expression. Now that his arms were still, Josh grabbed one of his hands. He squeezed tightly but Sam’s hand was lifeless in his.

“It’s alright Sam,” Toby continued, “You’re safe now, tell us what happened,” Sam stared fixedly at Toby but again made no response. Everyone was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to even show surprise when a secret service agent burst into the room.

“He’s here,” he called over his shoulder and was followed by another agent, a police officer and two paramedics. The paramedics immediately went to Sam, watched closely by the police officer. One of them was the woman who had watched him walk back to his car earlier, she cursed silently as she took in Sam’s blank expression and pale face.

“I told you,” She said harshly to the officer standing behind her. He just shrugged and continued to watch her examine Sam, “Hi Sam, I’m Beth. Are you in any pain?” Sam didn’t respond but Beth hadn’t expected him too. She kept talking to him anyway.

Toby and CJ walked over to Leo and listened to the story the agent had managed to piece together so far. Josh stayed with Sam, who was now beginning to become more aware of his surroundings. The officer came over and stood behind the paramedics.

“Sir, can you tell me what happened?” Sam’s gaze switched from the floor to the officer and then to Josh, “You wandered off from the scene sir.”

“Don’t say anything Sam,” Toby called over.

The officer crouched down beside Sam, “We need to know what happened.”

“Back off,” Josh warned, “You can see he’s in no state to talk. You can question him later with his lawyer present. It’s not like he’ll have trouble finding one, I mean, there’s three in the room right now.”

The officer nodded and stepped away from the sofa, he knew Josh hadn’t told him how many lawyers were present just to make conversation. During the exchange Sam had started to stare at his hands. He turned them slowly over and studied both sides of them. They were covered with the blood from his shirt. With a bewildered face he turned to Josh.

“I’ve got blood on my hands.”

Everyone in the room turned at the sound of Sam’s voice. He looked at the group standing with Leo, then at the officer, he turned his gaze quickly to the paramedics and then to Josh. Finally he looked down at his bloodied shirt pulling it away from his body. Josh watched, transfixed, as the realization of what had happened came crashing down on Sam. His breathing became harsher and his eyes closed, he wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked himself as he started to moan, “Oh God, oh no, oh God,” over and over again.

The sound of Sam’s cries filled the silent room and for a few seconds nobody reacted.

Before Josh could make a move to comfort him the paramedics had taken over. One of them talking calmly to Sam while the other tried to un-wrap his arms and make him open his eyes and look at him. Josh walked over to the window and stared out of it, trying to block out the sounds of Sam’s voice. Gradually the paramedics calmed him down until all that could be heard were his irregular shuddering breaths.

Toby walked over to Sam and crouched in front of him. Sam turned to him and Toby thought how he preferred it when Sam’s expression had been blank. At least then he didn’t have to look at the horrified stare that met him now. He reached out and placed his hand on Sam’s. Josh too, walked back over to where he sat and took up his place by the end of the sofa.

Beth left the group and walked over to Leo.

“We’re going to take him in.”

“Is that necessary? Wouldn’t it better if he stayed here with us. We can make sure he’s alright,” Leo knew it was pointless arguing with the woman but for some reason he had an urge to keep Sam safe in the White House.

Leo turned at the voice of one of the agents behind him.

“I think it would be in everyone interests if they take Sam to hospital. You’ve already got Officer Dibble over there wanting to know why Sam left the scene of the accident.”

“You’re saying Sam should be admitted to hospital for PR reasons,” CJ asked incredulously.

“No,” Beth interrupted, “Sam should be admitted because he’s in shock, not responding how we would like and has suffered some injuries from the impact of the car that crashed into his and as he wandered off we don’t know if he lost consciousness,” She walked away leaving Leo, CJ and the agent to finish the discussion. The policeman made arrangements with Josh for Sam to make a statement and then left.

The paramedics gently helped Sam to his feet and started to lead him out of the room. He was completely compliant. He no longer seemed aware of anything or anyone, just the two steady hands holding him up and guiding him forward.

Toby began to follow them out but stopped when Leo called after him.

“You can’t go. You’re meeting with Mitchell,” He turned and looked at Leo. He knew he was right. They had spent the last week preparing for this meeting. Toby had just wanted the decision not to follow Sam to be made for him. Josh started to pull on his jacket.

“But I can go right? I’m not meeting with anyone. I’m free all morning.”

Leo stopped Josh in his tracks, “CJ’s going,” CJ looked surprised and waited for Leo to explain, “You find out every single detail about Sam’s condition and treatment. You get the medical jargon explained to you, you say nothing to the press, you make sure the hospital doesn’t release a statement, then you come back here and Toby will help you prepare for the briefing.”

Josh had been half-way out of the door when Leo had spoken. Now he came back into the room slamming the door behind him, “I can’t believe...you’re putting a spin on this?”

“I’m not spinning anything. I’m trying to protect Sam,” Leo sighed as he realized that Josh still didn’t know the full story, “Sam ran a woman down this morning and killed her, and if that sounds harsh it’s going to sound even harsher when it’s splashed over the papers with the head-line, ‘President’s Senior Staffer leaves scene and seeks refuge in White House’.

“Do we know what happened?” Josh had paled slightly at Leo’s words. He had known that something awful had happened to Sam. But he had assumed that he’d had an accident and at the very worst seen someone die, never for one moment did it occur to him that Sam was in some way responsible for the death.

“We don’t really know alot. We know that he hit the woman and that he stayed with her until... from what the paramedics said Sam was with her when she died. It was raining and there was that damn glare on the road from the sun,” Leo paused and admitted, “We don’t know what happened.”

CJ was the first to move, “I should get going,” She looked at Josh apologetically, knowing that he wished he was going in her place. As she left the room Charlie entered. He was holding Sam’s possessions which had been removed from his car. Toby was relieved to see his laptop; it meant he could throw the bloodied speech away and print off a new copy. He took all of Sam’s things and put them neatly away in his office. He managed to catch CJ before she left and handed her Sam’s coat.

When Ginger knocked on the men’s room door Toby ignored it. He was busy, bent over the sink watching it fill with water.

“Toby, Congressman Mitchell is here,” She pushed the door ajar and poked her head round the corner, “He’s been waiting for fifteen minutes,” she watched Toby ringing a cloth in the water.

“Well he won’t mind waiting another fifteen then,” Toby bellowed. He sighed, turned to Ginger and apologised.

She walked into the room, “I can do this. You’ve got a meeting,” she waited a few seconds and then Toby handed her the cloth. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment then adjusted his tie.

“I should have given him the bloodied copy. That would have shut him up,” He mumbled before he left.

Ginger watched him leave and then went back to her task. Toby had done a good job but there was still a little blood on Sam’s briefcase and she carefully sponged it off, trying not to get the leather too wet.

* * *

“Okay 'psychogenic shock and that’s why he wandered off?” CJ sat with a doctor writing every word he said on a notepad.

“That’s a term most people will understand...this is for the press I take it?” CJ nodded, “We tend to call it ‘protective withdrawal’ or ‘emotional crises. Whatever you call it Mr Seaborn effectively ‘shut-down’ in order to try to deal with what happened. As there’s no sign of concussion we can assume that’s what happened. The symptoms the paramedics described certainly back that up. He passed out in the ambulance but came to in the ER and was agitated...am I going too fast?”  CJ shook her head, “He was agitated so we decided to give him something to help calm him down. He’s been out ever since but he should wake up in a few hours. Depending on how he is when he wakes, he can go home. I’d rather someone stayed with him though, it’s those missing twenty minutes, if we knew what had happened then I’d feel a lot happier.”

“Well Amen to that,” CJ agreed, “Can I see him?”

“He won’t wake for good while yet.”

“Still, I’d just like to check in on him before I go.”

The doctor led the way to Sam’s room and held the door open, shutting it quietly behind her. She walked over to the bed and put her hand on his. He looked peaceful. His breathing was deep and slow. She knew that when he woke up he would struggle to find this peace again and without drugs she doubted he would sleep like this for a long time. She bent down and kissed his forehead.

“Don’t wake up yet,” She whispered. She let go of his hand, left the room and headed back to the White House.


	2. Walking Wounded 2

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Chapter Two

The only sound in the office was of Toby’s pen scribbling across the page. Occasionally he stopped and read back what he had written, often crossing it out and starting again. CJ sat on the sofa, absently fiddling with the chain around her neck. 

“That’s it,” Toby declared handing the pad to CJ. She quickly read through the contents, conscious that the briefing was due to start in five minutes.

“No questions,” Toby reiterated.

“Sure, and the President...?”

“Conveys his deepest sympathy to the family etc, etc, and is waiting for news of Sam Seaborn’s condition.”

“Has he got one?” CJ asked.

“Yes,”

“What?”

“Psychogenic shock,” Toby answered promptly.

“Okay, but I’m pretty sure that wore off when they pumped him full of tranquillisers.”

“Well...I don’t know, just say condition...he’s in hospital with a-”

“Condition,” CJ finished for him.

“Yeah,” Toby sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as CJ walked away towards the briefing room.

* * *

Toby was perched against his desk watching the briefing on the television, when Josh appeared in the doorway.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s doing good,” Both men sat and watched as CJ fielded questions about the accident, read the statement and then left the room ignoring the shouts of her name.

Toby flicked through the channels, mumbled something then flicked back a couple. He hoped he had been mistaken but his first impression was right. A reporter was chatting away to a witness while footage was played of Sam’s car being towed away.  A picture of Sam standing by the president was shown but Josh didn’t get a good look as Toby abruptly switched off the set and turned to Josh.

“He’d been up all night.”

“Who else knows that?” Josh reached behind him and shut the door.

“No one, he told me when I phoned this morning,” The two men stared at each other, the implications of what Toby was saying clear to them both.

“How did he sound...on the phone?”

“He didn’t sound tired. He sounded wired- you know how he gets when he finishes a good speech.”

Josh just nodded.

“It’s too early to start speculating,” Toby continued, “We’ll find out what happened eventually.”

Ginger’s knock on the door startled them, “The hospital called. Sam’s awake now and they’re happy for someone to come and get him,” As she spoke she handed Toby Sam’s briefcase.

“I’ll go,” Josh announced quickly. He left the office and then poked his head back round the door, “How did it go with Mitchell?”

“He went for it. He wasn’t going to though, until he read the speech.”

“That’s great, I’ll tell Sam.”

“Yeah, that’ll cheer him up,” Josh ignored Toby’s sarcasm and focused on how he could help Sam, ‘Just act normal’ he thought to himself, and normally Sam would be interested in the results of a week’s work. That’s it, normality, that’s what Sam needs, he decided.

* * *

The moment Josh stepped into the hospital room he knew normality had absolutely nothing to do with the situation he faced. Sam lay on his side, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes were open but he was staring blankly at the wall and he didn’t seem to notice Josh’s presence.

Josh walked over to the bed and crouched down so that his face was level with Sam’s,

“They said you can go...I’ve come to take you home,” When his words drew no response Josh reached up and gently shook Sam’s shoulder. Sam closed his eyes. When he opened them he looked directly at Josh but still didn’t speak. The doctor had told Josh that Sam remembered everything up to the accident but then nothing. Josh could only imagine the thoughts and images that were haunting Sam now but he also knew that lying in a hospital bed wasn’t doing anything to help. He shook Sam more forcibly, “Okay it’s time to go Sam. I’ve bought some clothes for you,” He started to unpack the sweater and jeans that he had grabbed at Sam’s apartment and laid them out on the end of the bed. He had flashes of his mother trying to get him out of bed on a weekend but didn’t think that pulling the sheets off Sam and yelling at him to get up would do much to help. Instead he walked back to Sam’s side and got hold of his arms, “It’s time to go,” Sam tensed at first but then allowed Josh to uncross his arms and help him to sit up, “It’s time to go Sam,” Josh repeated this time more firmly. Sam nodded and reached for the clothes on the end of the bed. Josh left him to it and went to get Sam’s belongings.

When he returned, Sam was dressed and standing by the bed. It was as if he had completed Josh’s first order and was now waiting for the next one. Josh looked at him and realized that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He started to rummage in the bag, ignoring the blood soaked shirt and triumphantly pulled out the shoes that Sam had been wearing that morning.

He watched Sam tie the laces; all of his movements seemed slow and clumsy. When he had finished Sam followed Josh out of the room and over to the nurses’ station. He signed a few forms while the nurses told Josh about Sam’s aftercare and then continued to follow Josh out of the hospital and over to his car. When they were inside Josh waited before starting the engine.

“You know I’d be a lot happier if you’d say something.”

“I’m alright Josh. It’s just those drugs have knocked me for six,” Josh nodded and started the engine. Sam visibly relaxed, knowing that Josh didn’t plan on interrogating him just yet.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence. Sam closed his eyes and leant back. His hands clasped tightly in his lap.

* * *

When they arrived at his apartment both men stood in the living room, unsure of what to do next.

“Do you want to take a shower or something?” Josh asked. Sam didn’t answer; he just headed towards the bathroom, relieved that Josh had told him what to do.

Josh took the opportunity to phone Toby. He explained to him that Sam was acting weird.

“Do you want to elaborate on that?” Toby asked.

“Well there’s the usual Sam-weird as in having two pots for paperclips; used and new, and then there’s Sam-weird as in blank stares, not talking and seemingly being incapable of making decisions.”

“And you’re telling me the paperclip thing doesn’t worry you?”

“I mean it Toby, he’s not himself.”

There was a pause before Toby answered and Josh thought he heard a sigh as well, “Josh- he killed someone today. What you described sounds like pretty normal behaviour for someone trying to deal with that?”

“I’ve got to go,” Josh hung up as Sam emerged from the bathroom, followed by a cloud of steam. Josh gave him a few minutes to get dressed and then followed him to his room. Sam was sitting on his bed. He had obviously been in the process of drying his hair but now he just sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands holding the towel that covered his head. Josh knocked and watched as Sam immediately jumped to life and began rubbing the towel over his head again.

“Shall I fix us something to eat?”

“I don’t know, what do you think?”

Josh smiled and came and sat beside Sam, “I don’t know if you’re hungry or not. Do you feel like you could eat or does the thought make you want to puke.”

“I think there’s every chance puking would be involved,” Sam admitted.

“Okay so we won’t eat,” Josh watched as Sam neatly folded the towel on his lap and then unfolded it so he could hang it over the radiator, “Maybe some soup,” Josh suggested.

“Soup could be good,” Sam agreed.

“Or toast...and toast...soup and toast,” Josh announced.

Sam nodded, turned and forced a smile for Josh. Josh smiled back, pleased that he at least had something constructive he could do.

* * *

Josh pushed the kitchen window open and used an unread copy of the Post to waft out the smoke from the burnt toast, “What sort of a toaster has 1 as the high setting?” he mumbled as he placed the bowls on the tray and walked into the living room. He switched on the TV and handed Sam his soup. They ate in silence, as the soundtrack to an old western played in the background, Sam struggling to manage more than a few mouthfuls.  Josh didn’t comment on the unfinished meal. Instead, he took everything back to the kitchen and began making some coffee.

When he returned to the living room Sam was on the phone. There had been a number of calls since he had got home. Josh had answered most of them, handing the phone to Sam or telling the caller to phone tomorrow based on the shake or nod of Sam’s head.

Josh placed the coffee down and went back into the kitchen. He was surprised when Sam followed him in and came and sat with him at the table.

“Who was that?” Josh asked his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Toby, he wants to go with me when I make my statement.”

“Do you want him to? I mean you don’t need a lawyer to make a statement. It might look like...” As soon as he’d said the words Josh realized they were the wrong ones.

“Look like what?” Sam stood up abruptly causing the coffee to lap over the edge of the cup, “Look like what?” Josh said nothing; he was startled by Sam’s sudden anger. “Like what? Like I’m guilty? Like I’ve got something to hide?” Sam was pacing up and down the short length of the kitchen, “Like I’m worried I might say something that will incriminate me?”

Josh stood and walked towards him, “Calm down. That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Sam had nowhere to go he was stuck between the closed door and Josh.

“I don’t...I can’t...oh God, oh God, what am I going to do?” Sam put his head in his hands and slumped down to the floor. Josh hesitated a moment before kneeling beside him. At first Sam wouldn’t allow Josh to comfort him and pushed his hands away. Undeterred, Josh tried to comfort Sam with words. He had thought listening to Sam’s wails in Leo’s office had been bad enough but somehow this was worse. He was distraught, his sobs mixed with indistinguishable words and his whole body shaking uncontrollably. Eventually he allowed Josh to wrap both his arms around him. Josh held on and found himself instinctively rocking Sam. Both men had stopped talking. The sobs lessened in intensity and gradually died out altogether but still Josh held on. It was Sam who moved first, pulling gently away and wiping his hand over his face. Josh thought he looked exhausted and Sam didn’t argue when he suggested he go to bed. Josh wiped away the spilt coffee, and then made some more.  He sat at the kitchen table and wondered how he could make Sam see he shouldn’t feel guilty. He thought about guilt and how it can devour logic and reason, and he wasn’t surprised when his thoughts turned to memories of his sister.

* * *

Josh woke to the sound of clattering in the kitchen. Bleary-eyed, he followed the noises and found Sam frowning and fiddling with the settings on the toaster.

It took a little while longer for Josh to register the fact that Sam was dressed, and longer still for him to conclude that Sam was dressed for work.

“What are you doing? You don’t need to go in today.”

“Don’t I? Leo didn’t tell me not to come in. Toby certainly didn’t.”

Josh walked over to the table and started pouring a coffee, “That’s because they don’t expect you to.”

Sam didn’t answer he obviously wasn’t prepared to discuss his decision.

He picked up his coffee, plate of toast and the newspaper and went into the living room. Josh ate his toast in the kitchen. He didn’t want to crowd Sam and had taken his exit as a hint that he wanted to be on his own. He had just started his second cup of coffee when he realized something was missing from his morning routine; the newspaper. He remembered Sam taking it with him and decided to see if he had finished with it. Quarrelling over the paper would get him talking if nothing else.

Sam wasn’t in the room. Josh was pleased to see the empty cup and plate until he heard the sounds coming from the bathroom.

“You okay?” He called through the bathroom door.

Josh heard the toilet being flushed and the sound of running water, “Yeah,” Sam called back, but he didn’t open the door.

Josh had lost all interest in the paper but as he picked up Sam’s plate the sight of a photo of a smiling Sam stopped him in his tracks. For some reason the fact that Sam would be the news this morning hadn’t entered his head. That was why he had skulked of by himself Josh realized. He sat down and flicked to the front page, it showed a picture of Sam’s car next to a group of policemen. But that wasn’t the page Sam had been reading. Josh turned back to the page the paper had been open at. Underneath the picture of Sam there was a picture of a young woman. She was smiling too. He started to read the article below it.

“Claire Walsh, twenty-five, home from Law school for the holidays,” Josh spun round at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“You shouldn’t read this stuff...you don’t need to know this...not yet I mean.”

“I need to know who I killed,” Sam said more to himself. As he spoke he rubbed his neck.

“You’re just making it worse. You’ll dwell on all this stuff. I just think it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Do you want me to pretend it never happened or that Claire Walsh didn’t exist?” Sam was shouting now but instead of trying to calm him down Josh raised his voice too.

“No, I didn’t say that, but I won’t stand by and watch you do this,” He walked towards Sam and grabbed him by his shoulders, “You didn’t kill anyone. It was an accident. You have to believe that,” Josh was shocked when he realized the hands he thought were supporting Sam were shaking him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them Sam was trying to remove Josh’s hands. Josh let go and Sam immediately stepped away and began rubbing his shoulder.

“God I’m sorry Sam, I didn’t...”

“Shut up Josh,” Sam spoke through clenched teeth and continued to massage his neck and shoulder.

Josh knew that the doctor had given him an anti-inflammatory for the whiplash injury but he decided against asking Sam if he’d taken it. In fact there was something about Sam’s expression that cautioned him against saying anything at all.  The two men left the apartment in silence, drove to the White House in silence and walked to their respective offices in silence. Sam hadn’t even said anything when Josh had taken a detour to avoid the site of the accident. He had simply shifted uncomfortably in his seat and spent the rest of the journey gazing out of the window.

Toby was surprised to see Sam walking into the bullpen. Sam avoided his gaze and the stares of the other communication staffers. He knew his appearance would cause some attention but hadn’t realized before what a long way it was from the entrance to his office. Toby waited for Sam to get settled and then he knocked lightly and entered.

“Nobody expected you in today.”

“Are you telling me to go?” Sam challenged.

“Of course not,” Toby watched Sam sorting through the papers on his desk, “What are you working on?”

“Just catching up really- why, have you got something?”

“Just the speech for the Farmers of the West...United...blah, blah.”

“Is that what they’re called?” Sam followed Toby into his office, “Because if they want to be taken seriously they really should think about changing their name.”

Toby ignored Sam. He normally ignored those types of comments because he thought Sam said them expressly to irritate him. Today he ignored it because Sam’s voice didn’t match the levity of his words. In fact, his voice caught on the end of the sentence and Toby busied himself searching through his briefcase to give Sam time to compose himself. Sam needed it. He hadn’t realized how unstable his emotions were and was surprised at how an attempt at humour had almost ended in him bursting into tears in front of Toby. Eventually Toby pulled out a file and handed it to him. He took it and went back to his office closing the door behind him. Nobody disturbed him for the rest of the morning. He missed staff, but didn’t notice. He didn’t notice that his phone hadn’t rung all morning either. He was oblivious to Toby who peered through the window every so often and Josh who walked past his office on four separate occasions.

At one o’clock Sam put on his coat and told Ginger he was going to the precinct to make his statement. He didn’t want Toby with him. Not because he thought it wouldn’t look good but because he didn’t think he was going to cope well with reliving the accident. It was one thing falling apart in front of Josh but Sam didn’t want Toby to witness it too. It was bad enough that he had been so upset in Leo’s office. Josh had told him that he had been a little distraught but spared him the full blown account of how he had acted. Josh knew Sam would hate to think of the people he respected seeing him like that.

An hour later, Sam entered the White House. He had been right not to take Toby. He couldn’t believe how emotional he was at the moment. It wasn’t just the emotion, it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to control it. He knew he should feel relieved; the officer had told him that Claire’s friend had made a statement describing how she had slipped. He told them they had been jogging, and Sam pictured her white sweat top and how her blood had shown vividly against it. He explained that the friend said that Claire had skidded on the wet pavement she thought that she had managed to right herself but then she just lost her balance and lurched into the road. The policeman had reiterated that it wasn’t Sam’s fault. He even told him that the driver behind had seen Sam brake and slow down long before he hit the girl. Sam knew he should feel vindicated when the policeman from yesterday acknowledged that Sam had been very ill when he had seen him at the White House, but he didn’t. He felt like he was listening to a message, an important message that he would have to relay to someone later. He tried hard to memorize every word. He knew they were important, these words, and one day he would want to hear them again. But not now, he just wanted to get out of the room and away from the sympathetic stares. He didn’t want the coffee that was bought to him or the offers of a ride back to the White House. He wanted to walk. It was raining again and he wanted to walk in the rain.

By the time Sam got back to his office he was drenched. He stood dripping on his carpet for a while, watching the rain run slowly down his shoes and onto the floor. He took off his coat and grabbed a towel from his gym bag, rubbing his hair he went into Toby’s office.

“How did it go?” Toby put down what he was reading and gave Sam his full attention.

“Can I,” Sam pointed towards the sofa, “I’ve just got this headache and I can’t seem to shift it,” Toby noticed that Sam was pale and shaking slightly. He hurriedly moved his things off the sofa and helped Sam onto it.

“Is this just a regular headache? You don’t feel ill or anything?” Toby tried to remember what CJ had said about concussion and things to look out for.

“It’s my neck I think. It started there then travelled up,” Sam rolled away from Toby, “It’s just whiplash,” He mumbled.

Toby was amazed at how quickly Sam fell asleep. He watched as he snuggled further into the cushions. That probably wasn’t the best position for someone with whiplash, he thought, but at least he was asleep.


	3. Walking Wounded 3

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Sam woke with a sudden gasp, a sharp intake of breath that made Toby jump. He slowly rolled onto his back wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulder.

“How’s your head?” Toby asked quietly.

“Better,” Sam lied. He watched Toby get out of his seat and walk towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“To get you something to eat,” Sam waved his hand as if dismissing the notion.

“You should eat something,” Toby insisted.

Sam looked up at Toby but looked away again before he answered quietly, “I can’t keep anything down.”

Toby thought about Sam’s confession for a while, “Well then- I’m going to get you something to eat...and a bucket,” he left the room before Sam could protest again.

On his way out of the mess Toby caught sight of Josh sitting on his own in the corner. He wandered over to his table but didn’t sit down.

“He went and made his statement,” Toby informed him.

“Good, how is he? I looked in a couple of times this morning but I’ve been pretty flat out since lunch.”

“He hasn’t said much. He’s been asleep since he got back,” Josh didn’t answer and Sam’s meal was getting cold, “Well I should get this to him.”

Josh spoke as Toby started to turn away, “I’ve been pretty flat out since lunch,” he repeated.

“Yeah, you said,” Toby walked out of the mess carefully balancing the pasta dish on the tray. He wished he’d asked Josh if he was planning on taking Sam home but then decided he didn’t care. He would take Sam home tonight. When he entered his office Sam was still sitting in the same position he had been in when he’d left him. Toby handed him the tray.

“It’s pasta.”

“So it is,” Sam sat up straighter and started to eat. Toby sat back at his desk and continued to look at the opening paragraphs of the speech Sam had worked on that morning. He made a point of not looking at him although the constant deep breaths and sighs told him he was having a few problems forcing the pasta down.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Toby looked up to find Leo staring at Sam.

“Good afternoon Leo,” Sam replied.

“Good afternoon Sam. What the hell are you doing here?”

Sam placed the almost empty dish on the floor and opened a bottle of water, “Do you want me to go?”

Leo came and sat down next to Sam, “No I don’t want you to go. But no one expected you in today you realize that right?”  Sam nodded in reply.

“Could the police tell you any more about what happened?”

“She was jogging,” Sam saw the blood soaked sweat shirt and unconsciously wiped his hands on his trousers. He realized the statement wasn’t very helpful so added, “She tripped.”

“This is what the friend said?” Leo asked.

“Yeah and witnesses, other drivers mostly, I think there was a person on the other side of the street who saw it too,” Toby and Leo were silent, sensing that Sam wanted to continue, “The driver behind me saw me brake. I always tap the brakes a couple of times if I’m going to slow down suddenly, you know, like a warning. It started raining hard and the sun was...anyway he saw me and the police said I slowed down long before...that I definitely slowed down.”

The blinds were drawn and the door was closed so Toby decided it was worth pushing Sam, “What happened after you slowed down?”

Sam heard the thud and the scream and tried to ignore the turning of his stomach, “I heard this...there was a...” Sam swallowed hard, “There was a thud then I saw...someone screamed...her friend I think,” Sam took a deep breath. “I broke but I think I skidded. It was raining you see,” Sam took another deep breath but this time his stomach overpowered any attempt to quell its lurching, “I’m sorry...I’m going to...” That was all Sam managed before he rushed out of the room, his hand over his mouth.

Leo and Toby stared at the door.

“You thought it might help him to talk about it?” Leo asked.

“Yeah.”

“You might want to rethink that.”

Toby shot Leo a sarcastic ‘that’s very helpful’ look and then went after Sam.

* * *

The rest of the week passed slowly. Sam continued to go into work and draft the Farmer’s Union speech and Toby rewrote every page. Toby didn’t try to get Sam to talk about what had happened again. He was getting increasingly worried about him. Sam was becoming more withdrawn and even more unstable emotionally. He was still finding it difficult to eat and had reacted angrily when Toby had mentioned that he hoped he wasn’t developing some sort of trendy eating disorder. As Sam had become more depressed, Josh had become more frustrated with him. Toby had been shocked when Josh had suggested that Sam should be ‘beginning to pull himself together by now’. Sam detached himself from Josh and started to look more to Toby for support. The President had purposely not met with Sam until later in the week. Leo had told him that Sam was still very emotional and although he was back at work, he wasn’t really up to doing much. The staff had gathered in the Oval Office and matters had been dealt with briskly by Leo who had kept an eye on Sam throughout the meeting. Sam did not join in with the discussions but put on a good show of listening attentively to all that was being said. At the end of the meeting the President asked him to stay behind. He motioned to him to stay seated and came and sat next to him.

“How are you getting to and from work Sam?”

Sam had thought the President would offer some words of comfort or advice so the fact that he was considering practicalities threw Sam momentarily.

“Josh, Toby, Ginger sometimes. I get a cab if it’s awkward and when the weather’s better I’ll be able to walk.”

“When the weather’s better? So you’re not planning on driving any time soon?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it a great deal. I don’t miss it. I don’t have any problems getting around. In some ways it’s easier- no parking hassles for one thing. If I walked to and from work every day that would be a forty minute workout without even going to the gym, so...when you start to weigh it up there’s actually more to be said for not driving than driving,” Sam finally took a breath.

“And that’s when you ‘haven’t’ thought about it a great deal,” dead-panned the President. Sam just shrugged; he had no intention of ever driving again. The President changed the subject, “The speech is looking good. You’re staying for the dinner on Friday?”

“Of course,” The speech that Sam and Toby had worked on all week was to be followed by a dinner at the White House. Sam had no desire to go but Friday was the day of the funeral and he thought that if he immersed himself in work all day and stayed on for the dinner, he would be able to avoid thinking about it as much as possible.

Charlie entered the office and the President reluctantly stood, “Well I’ve got to go now and be polite to someone that I really don’t like at all.”

“You’re very good at it though Sir,” Charlie said.

The President looked at Sam with a bemused expression, “I don’t know if that was meant to be a compliment or not.”

Sam just shrugged and smiled, inwardly pleased that his chat with Bartlet had been cut short and that it hadn’t ended with him throwing-up or bursting into tears in the Oval Office. Both of which were not unlikely events at the moment.

Sam had been back in his office for half an hour before he went into Toby’s and sat on the sofa. Toby looked up from his work and waited for him to speak.

“I’m not sure,” Sam started again, “I don’t think,” He broke off. Toby put his pen down and continued to wait, “I’m not sure that going to the dinner on Friday is a good idea after all.”

“Is that what the President thinks?” Toby couldn’t hide his surprise.

“No, but I was just thinking about it and it occurred to me that maybe people will think I’m being...disrespectful.”

“Has somebody said something?” Sam shook his head. He was getting very skilled at non-verbal communication.

“It’s the Farmers Western Union Sam I don’t think we’re going to be having much fun.”

CJ walked past, Toby caught her eye and she walked into the office, “Sam doesn’t think he should go on Friday,” Toby explained.

“Out of the question,” Both men were startled by CJ’s vehement objection, “I’ve put you on my table and you’re going to save me from slipping into a coma and then, when crop rotation is being explained to me for the thirtieth time, you’re going to ask me to dance.”

“There isn’t going to be any dancing,” Toby stated.

“Which is exactly what I will reply,” CJ explained.

Sam smiled, “And what will I say to that?”

“You will take my hand and exclaim, ‘we need no music, let the wind in the trees be our violins and the beating of our hearts our own sweet rhythm as we dance beneath a chandelier made of stars.”

“I could just say there’s a phone call for you,” Sam suggested.

“Yeah but my way’s much more exciting. You’re coming,” It was a command and the way it was said left Sam no option but to say yes. Toby shook his head and smiled as CJ walked away singing ‘One Man Went to Mow’.

* * *

“He’s gone home to get changed for tonight,” Toby called to Josh who was standing outside Sam’s office. Josh came and stood in the door way.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it last night. I had to wait for this call and by the time it came...” Josh trailed off. They both knew he could have made it to Sam’s if he’d wanted to.

“Why are you avoiding him?” Toby watched as Josh shut the door and walked over to the window. He ran his finger along the ledge and wiped the non-existent dust on his trousers. He put his hands in his pockets and turned to face Toby.

“Because I find it hard to listen to him, he’s so full of guilt and I want to be able to help him with that but I know that it doesn’t go away.”

“Go on,” Toby prompted.

Josh had spoken slowly before but now he spoke quickly. The thoughts had been running through his head so frequently that he found he had no problem verbalizing them, “If I can’t get over my guilt about...something that happened when I was a kid, I can’t see how he’ll ever even begin to get over his. I just get angry with him, and I know I shouldn’t, but I want to just shake him and tell him to get over it. It was an accident, he’s acting like he run her over on purpose.”

“Have you finished?”

“Yeah,” Josh sighed and waited for Toby’s advice.

“Stay away from him.”

“I’m sorry?” Josh hadn’t expected that.

“Stay away from Sam. This isn’t about you it’s about him and if you can’t make a distinction between how you feel and how he feels then that’s your problem. I’m sorry this has stirred up emotions for you, it’s difficult for everyone, but Sam doesn’t need to be worrying about you as well. Maybe if you two had been closer recently it would have been easier...maybe that’s the real problem here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Toby was using all his patience on Sam and had little left for Josh, “Oh come on Josh, you and Sam haven’t been as close as you were for a while now. All I’m saying is, if you can’t help then stay away from him.”

Josh was stunned. He had expected Toby to help him to find a way to help Sam not to dismiss him outright, “We’re still close. Just because we don’t spend all day sitting in each other’s offices chatting doesn’t mean we’re not close,” Josh walked over to Toby and was about to say something but then stopped. He stepped towards the door and rested his hand on the handle, “I don’t have to explain my relationship to Sam with you. I’ll think about what you said...I’m not dismissing it...but you’re wrong about us not being as close as we were,” With that he left the room and headed back to his office. Toby waited for the predictable slam of Josh’s door and then went back to his crossword. Smiling at the irony of it Toby filled in eleven down; disavow.

* * *

Sam stood in front of mirror slowly adjusting his tie. He thought of all the dinners he had attended at the White House and allowed memories of happier times to invade his thoughts.

_‘I’ll say this for you though, you know how to wear a tuxedo.’_

“I know,” Sam said out loud to the empty bedroom. But the momentary happiness that the memory had conjured had already faded.

The President had sent a car to take him home and bring him back, insisting that he have a break before returning to the White House. Sam had planned to go down to the stoop and wait for the car but this was his second attempt at leaving his apartment and the second time he had felt unable to walk through the door. He sat down on his sofa and laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Maybe a quick drink would calm his nerves. He glanced at the clock and discovered the car wasn’t due for another five minutes. He poured himself a large whiskey and downed it quickly. Staring at the door, he realized one wouldn’t be enough and so poured another and drank it as quickly as the first. He felt able to leave the apartment now, go to the dinner and face the stares and whispers of the guests. He headed a little unsteadily out of the apartment and down to the car which was already waiting for him. He’d have to make sure that he had something to eat before he drank anything else and maybe a few mints wouldn’t be a bad idea. Toby usually had some lying around. He would go straight to his office when he got there.

* * *

They didn’t see Sam walk past the window and stand in the door-way, they were too busy watching the images on the television screen. Toby sat perched on the front of his desk his arms folded, Josh stood in the far corner leaning against the wall and CJ sat on the sofa. Sam backed out of the room as he took in the scenes that were flashing in front of his friends. The reporter stood a discreet distance away from the now deserted church describing the flowers that had been laid outside. As she spoke images of the coffin being taken into the church were shown followed by footage of relatives and friends walking towards the church. CJ sighed as a picture of Sam was shown and the reporter handed back to the studio where they started to speculate if Sam would be attending the dinner tonight.

“Sam!” CJ’s exclamation caused Toby to fumble for the remote and Josh to spring away from the wall. Sam didn’t move he stayed leaning against the door frame his face expressionless.

“I wondered if you had any mints Toby.”

Toby rummaged in his drawer while CJ stood up and straightened her long skirt. She took the mints off Toby and handed them to Sam, “Come on, let’s go over our escape plan again,” She took his hand and dragged him away from the office.

By the time Toby and Josh were seated at their table Sam was already on his second drink. CJ shot Toby a glance as he entered and he glanced at Sam who appeared to be fine, in fact Toby was pleased to notice some colour in his cheeks.

As she had predicted, CJ was indeed stuck next to a man who seemed intent on helping her understand the mysteries of crop rotation. She tried shooting Sam a few helpless glances but he had his own problems. The wife of the man seemed equally intent on trying to make him eat something.

“Why don’t you have another roll,” she asked as she shoved the dish under his nose. Sam had managed the soup and was now picking at the main course.

“Is it not what you thought it would be? The number of times I’ve ordered something and it’s turned out not to be what I thought it was,” She laughed and Sam forced a smile.

“It’s just been a long day. I should have eaten earlier you know how you get too hungry to eat sometimes.”

“Dear oh dear, well you look like you need building up,” She picked up her knife and fork and leaned towards him, for one horrifying moment Sam thought she was going to cut up his steak for him. Instead she leaned close and whispered, “I won’t say a word as long as you let me have your dessert if I prefer it to mine.”

Sam flashed a genuine smile at his companion and whispered, “It’s a deal.”

The rest of the meal passed without incident. Sam ate much less than anyone at the table but made up for it by drinking much more than them. The tables had been cleared and Sam had long since left his. He positioned himself in the ‘flight-path’ of the waiters and giggled slightly as he pictured waiters taking off down a runway. He stayed there for a while relieved that he had got through the meal and that in a little while he could excuse himself and go home. For the first time all week he felt relaxed, his shoulder didn’t ache, he didn’t have a headache and when he closed his eyes he didn’t see Claire’s body flying towards him. The waiters had stopped passing him and he wondered how many steps it was to the table that still had some glasses of champagne left from the toast. He decided he could do it in five steps. He started off- one...Leo was leaning over Toby and whispering, two...Charlie was being called over by Leo, three...Josh was standing up and walking over to Toby, four...Charlie was heading his way, five...Leo was walking out of the room with the President.

Sam reached the table and immediately grabbed a glass and downed the contents. If everyone just stopped hovering I could probably forget the thud and the scream too he thought. He reached for another glass but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He looked up to see Charlie by his side.

“Why don’t you come outside and get some air,” he suggested.

“Thank you but I don’t think I will,” he shrugged Charlie’s hand off and picked up the glass.

“Come on Sam,” Charlie whispered as he replaced his hand more firmly on Sam.

“Get off me!” at Sam’s shout half of the people in the room turned abruptly towards him. The other half joined them at the sound of Sam’s glass crashing on the floor.

Josh started to walk towards Sam but Toby held him back and went in his place. Charlie looked helplessly around. He had been told to get Sam tactfully out of the room but for once was unsure what to do next. Sam stooped down and started clumsily picking up the pieces of broken glass. Charlie knelt beside him but didn’t dare speak to the volatile man. The silence that had descended was broken, first by the sound of high-heals clicking across the room and then by their owners confident voice, “Samuel, we’ve only got two-hundred and eighty-four of those glasses left you know!”


	4. Walking Wounded 4

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Sam and Charlie stood at the sound of the First Lady’s voice. Toby stood a short distance behind Sam. Some of the guests had the decency to look away but most still stared at Sam who in turn was staring at Mrs Bartlet.

“Toby, you’ve been working him too hard,” She admonished, Toby nodded, he was willing to play along with whatever she had in mind, “You look exhausted Sam, why don’t you come and lie down for a while.”

Well done, Toby thought, he’s exhausted not drunk. That’s why he’s stumbling and trying to focus on where the voice is coming from, exhaustion. And she’s a doctor so she ought to know.

Sam continued to stare at Mrs Bartlet’s outstretched hand. Toby found himself silently willing Sam to take it and let himself be led from the room. Nobody moved. She whispered something that only Sam could hear. Whatever it was, it made him reach out, grasp her hand and take one shaky step towards her. She began to guide him out of the room while Charlie surreptitiously took hold of his other arm, managing to counter his stumbling steps.

Once out of the room Charlie took all of Sam’s weight and helped him to a seat. Toby, who had exited the room from a different door, appeared and was closely followed by Josh. Sam sat forward in the chair his hands covering his face. Abbey crouched down in front of him and removed his hands.

“When you come back to work, and I hope that won’t be for a couple of days, I want you to come and see me Sam,” he nodded but couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry...caused a scene,” he mumbled.

She stroked his head, “It’s alright Sam. I don’t think anyone noticed.”

Toby smiled at her sarcasm, but knew her words were also designed to make a drunken Sam feel better. She walked away and Josh and Toby followed her, “Is this a one off?”

“Yes,” Toby and Josh answered in unison.

“Do I need to worry?”

“No,” They both answered again. Josh wasn’t lying. He believed Sam would never let alcohol become a problem. Toby wasn’t lying either. He didn’t believe Mrs Bartlet should worry about this; he could do enough worrying for all of them.

She left Toby and Josh to deal with Sam and after making sure he wasn’t needed, Charlie left also. Toby helped him to his feet and started walking them towards his office, “You can sleep until everyone’s gone, then I’ll take you home,”

Josh silently moved beside Sam and took hold of his arm. When they were near the bullpen Sam shrugged them both off.

“I can manage...I’m alright,” he went into Toby’s office but instead of going to lie down he headed for the filing cabinet, pulled open the bottom drawer and cried, “Ah ha,” as he triumphantly pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

Toby couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his deputy’s delighted face.

“I don’t think you need any more of that Sam,” he started to move towards him to take the bottle away but was beaten to it by Josh.

“What’s the matter with you?” he pulled the bottle away from Sam with one hand and pulled him to his feet with the other, “What are you trying to do? Do you really think that you can drink away your problems?” Sam stared at Josh. His surprise at being suddenly dragged up had been replaced with confusion at Josh’s questions.

“This isn’t the time Josh,” Toby warned but Josh ignored him.

“I can’t believe that you’re doing this. Do you think ruining your career is going to help? Are you planning on drinking until you can’t remember? Because it won’t work, you’ll never forget and the worst thing is no matter how drunk you get she’ll still be dead when you sober up!” Josh shouted.

“You...” Sam didn’t finish the sentence. His fist connected with Josh’s face with such force that not only was Josh pushed back but his body was swung around ninety degrees before he landed in a heap on the floor. Sam staggered sideways, falling against Toby who managed to push him upright and backwards onto the sofa. After a while Josh started to get up. He rubbed his jaw slowly while tentatively opening and closing his mouth. Sam sat staring into space. Josh couldn’t see him properly because Toby had positioned himself between them.

“Sam that was a stupid thing to say, I don’t know why I...” Josh trailed off as he realized Sam wasn’t listening to a word he said, his eyes were closed and he was shaking. Toby nodded towards the door and Josh waited a few seconds before he walked out of the room. He closed the door behind him and stood leaning against it.  He heard the rustle of CJ’s gown before she came into view.

“What happened? Where is he?” CJ stopped talking and finally looked at Josh, “What happened to you?”

“It was my fault...I don’t know why I said it,” Josh rubbed his jaw and looked totally confused.

“Toby hit you?” It was the only likely scenario she could think of.

“No,” Josh pushed himself away from the wall and started to walk to his office, “Sam did.”

CJ’s eyes widened. She spun round and knocked on the door and waited. Toby looked up to see who it was and nodded. Sam now appeared to be directing his anger at Toby.

“I don’t want to lie down,” he pushed Toby away.

“You’re not going anywhere until the last guest has left this building,” Toby shot an exasperated look at CJ. She sat down next to Sam and held both of his hands.

He looked at CJ, “I hit Josh,” he sounded as though he didn’t believe it himself, “He said...” CJ was amazed at the sudden anger that flared up in Sam, “He said she’d still be dead,” she felt his hands tense beneath hers.

“What do you mean-” CJ began but Toby’s discreet cough stopped her, “Don’t worry about it Sam. I’m sure he deserved it.”

Toby looked up to see Leo standing outside, beckoning Toby to join him. He stepped out of the office and had to walk quickly to catch up with Leo who was already heading towards Josh’s office.

“How did this happen?” Leo bellowed as he swung the door of Josh’s office open. Josh had been sitting with his feet up on his desk holding an ice pack to his jaw which Leo’s sudden entrance caused him to drop.

“Well I guess he must have been drinking at home and then he didn’t eat much at the dinner and he must have kept on drinking throughout the meal,” Josh took in Leo’s exasperated expression, “Oh, you mean how did this ‘happen’  right? Not how did Sam get drunk.”

“Well no Josh, I think I’m pretty familiar with what happens when you drink too much alcohol.”

“Yeah,” Josh thought this was a perfect time to scramble under his desk to retrieve the ice pack.

“How did you allow Sam to get in such a state that I had to make sure the President was out of the room in case removing Sam from it caused a scene?” Leo watched Josh replace the pack on his jaw, “And what’s the matter with you? Did Toby hit you?”

“No! Wait...why does everyone think Toby’s the only person who would want to hit me?” Josh tried to work through what he had just said, “Hang on, that’s not right...”

Leo rested his hands on Josh’s desk and leaned close to him, “Trust me Josh, I have no problem believing that there are many people who would get immense pleasure from hitting you, but that’s not really what I want to discuss right now.”

Leo stepped back and looked at Toby who pointedly directed his gaze at Josh.

“Sam hit me...I said some things-” Josh ignored Toby’s snort, “I was just as surprised as you Leo. If Sam was drunk when he arrived it didn’t show. I didn’t notice him drinking tonight...I just...didn’t notice.”

“Well the First Lady did a good job of diffusing the situation. Everyone in that room tonight knew Sam was drunk but I’d be surprised if anyone will come out and openly say it. There’ll be rumours and probably a few questions but we can merge the truth with a lie. Sam was exhausted and that’s why the alcohol had such an effect on him.”

Leo and Josh nodded. It was all they could do. It wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

“You did well...getting the President out like you did,” Toby acknowledged.

“Yeah that was pretty impressive...it was like Operation Drunken Deputy... everyone rushing around, whispering, taking positions...” Josh trailed off, “I’m just going to sit here and hold this ice pack to my face and think about all the people who want to hit me.”

Leo and Toby agreed that was a good idea and left Josh’s office.

“You need to watch Sam Toby,” Leo warned.

“Yeah,” Toby sighed, “And you need to watch him,” he nodded towards Josh’s office.

“Yeah, what’s going on with them?”

“They’re not getting on too well,” Toby answered.

“And I need to know this because?”

“Well normally, I could care less about the state of Josh and Sam’s...whatever...but Josh has decided to help Sam while refusing to accept that maybe Sam isn’t comfortable with that.”  
  


“Why isn’t Sam comfortable with that?” Leo interrupted.

“Because Josh has been a little distant and then when he is around he’s been a little...impatient with Sam.”

“Why?” Leo was clearly reaching the end of his tether.

“I think Josh saw his own guilt...that he...carries...” Toby cleared his throat clearly uncomfortable talking to Leo about Josh and Sam’s emotions, “I think he saw how guilty Sam feels and it reminded him of his own guilt. I also think he’s frustrated that it’s stopping him from helping Sam.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded, “Which one am I watching again?”

Toby smiled and nodded again towards Josh’s door. He waited until Leo had left and then went and knocked on the door.

“Come on, I’m not dealing with Sam on my own,” Josh didn’t reply, he just smiled, threw the ice pack on his desk and followed Toby to his office.

Josh was explaining to Toby how he had ‘lost his balance’ more than been pushed over by Sam when the sight of CJ running out of the office stopped them both in their tracks. They watched her dash behind Ginger’s desk, empty the waste bin on the floor and then hurry back to Toby’s office.

“If you’re here for the pukeathon it’s already started,” She said as she darted by them.

Josh stayed outside the office. If he was going to apologise to Sam this definitely wasn’t the best time to do it. He peered through the window and watched as CJ rubbed his back and Toby poured some water from a bottle into a glass for him. Josh had never seen Sam so sick from alcohol. He heard him cursing before he started to retch again, this time Toby took over from CJ while she came out of the office to empty one of the bins.

“Oh for God’s sake Josh, just go in there,” She said as she hurried by him.

She was right of course. She usually was. Josh took a deep breath and walked into Toby’s office. Sam didn’t try to punch him again, he didn’t snarl at him to get out, he didn’t even comment when Josh went and sat beside him. He didn’t seem to mind when Josh’s hand replaced Toby’s on his back and he even seemed quite grateful when Josh soaked a handkerchief with water and wiped it over his face.

All of this time Sam had been leaning forward, his arms crossed in front of his stomach. When he leaned back, sighed and closed his eyes Toby realized he was finally finished.

“Well that really was quite spectacular Sam,” Josh leaned back so he was level with Sam and handed him a glass of water. Sam was too drained to move though so Josh pushed his head forward with one hand and put the glass to his lips with the other.

When he had finished Toby crouched on the floor in front of him and lifted his chin so that Sam was looking at him, “If you ever do something like this again I will personally knock seven shades of sense into you. Do you understand Sam?”

Taken aback by the intensity of Toby’s words, Sam nodded slowly.

“Good,” Toby surprised CJ and Josh by pulling Sam forward for a brief hug. “Let’s get you home,” Toby started to pull Sam up and Josh joined him. CJ watched as the two men helped the other along the corridor. She could hear Josh speculating if there really were world records for puking. She couldn’t make out Toby’s reply but from the tone she could imagine what he had said. She watched them walk around the corner, disappearing from view.

* * *

Sam spent the weekend in bed. When Josh, CJ and Toby phoned he put them off visiting by telling them he was tired. Josh left him alone on Saturday but by Sunday afternoon he decided Sam had spent enough time sleeping and a visit would do him good. Although Sam had spent all of Saturday in bed he hadn’t slept at all. Saturday had merged into Sunday. Sam had managed to doze off early on Sunday morning and was woken by the sound of the buzzer. He looked at the clock and blinked until he could read the illuminated digits. When he opened the door Josh tried to hide his surprise at the befuddled, scruffy Sam that greeted him.

“What’s wrong?” Sam croaked.

“Nothing, I just thought you might like a visitor,” Josh pushed past Sam and into his apartment.

“Josh, why would I want a visitor at two in the morning?”

“Sam it’s not...” Josh went over to the windows and opened the curtains, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Oh,” Sam tried but couldn’t hide his confusion at Josh’s statement, “I thought it was...did you say it was Sunday?”

“No, I was getting you used to the idea that it was actually ‘daytime’ before I told you which one,” Josh watched Sam rub his hand over his face, “You know for someone who has spent the last two days sleeping you look pretty exhausted.”

Sam sat on the sofa and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry?” Josh asked.

“I said I haven’t slept.”

“You haven’t been sleeping all day or you haven’t slept at all?” He asked as he sat down opposite Sam. He was headed to the kitchen to make some coffee but Sam’s confession had made him think that wasn’t such a good idea.

“I haven’t slept at all. I’ve dozed, I’ve had a snooze... I think it’s possible I may have napped for a while...but slept,” Sam shook his head, “not a wink.”

“Not a wink,” Josh repeated, “You know that’s good, you should put it in a speech,” Josh was rewarded with a sideways glance and a smile from Sam.

“I’m not coming in on Monday. I’ve got to go and see someone.  My doctor fixed it up...you know...someone to talk to,” Sam straightened the cushions on the sofa, “What was it like when you met with that guy...about Rosslyn?”

“It was weird. You don’t want to talk but somehow the questions they ask, the things they say, make you. It will be good. It’ll be hard too but, you know, talking about it helps more than you realize.”

“But when I’m done talking she’ll still be dead right?” Sam got up and walked into the kitchen. Josh didn’t follow. He deserved that. He deserved to have that thrown back at him. He waited until it was clear Sam wasn’t coming out again and then followed him in.

He was sitting at the table, two cups of coffee in front of him. Josh sat down opposite him and took one of the cups.

“So, meeting with the First lady when you come back to work. That’s something to look forward to,” Josh took a sip to avoid Sam’s glare.

“I’d take a meeting with Abbey over a lecture by Leo any day,” Sam looked up and waited until Josh was looking at him, “Do I have to worry about a Leo lecture?”

“No, you should be grateful to him. He made sure the President was out of the-”

Sam held up his hand to stop Josh, “I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to know,” Both men sat in silence for a while, “So Leo took the President out of the room?”

“Yeah just so...it wasn’t done to make sure he didn’t see you. It was so we could ‘say’ that he didn’t see you.”

Sam adopted the voice of a news reporter, “Fortunately the President was out of the room when Sam Seaborn made a complete ass of himself.”

“Don’t worry about it, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing, and I think Senator Powell was beginning to enjoy the tango by the time Abbey dragged you away.”

Josh was relieved to see he had managed to make Sam smile again, “While a lot of the evening is a bit of a blank, I remember most of it, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t tango with a senator,” Sam’s smile faded as other images from the evening came back to him, “How’s your jaw?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if me saying stupid things and you nearly breaking my jaw is one of those things we agree never to mention again?”

Sam shrugged, “Suits me.”

“I’m sorry for what I said though. The way I acted...it was selfish.”

“Let’s just forget it. It’s all in the past. You’re here now it doesn’t matter how you got here.”

Josh took a deep breath he realized Sam was no longer talking about the past few days but about the past few months. He took the cup from Sam’s hands and told him to go back to bed. He spent an hour tidying the apartment and clearing away the mess that had been made over the past few days. Every so often he checked on Sam. He wasn’t sleeping but at least he was resting. Josh had brought some work with him and set out the various files and notes on the table. Before starting he checked on Sam once more. It took a while for him to locate him in the darkened room. He wasn’t in bed but sitting by the window, back against the wall and knees pulled up against him. He had been crying again and even in the darkness Josh could see the paleness of his friend’s face. He held out his hand and waited; Sam hadn’t even realized he had entered the room. After a while Josh felt Sam’s hand in his, he pulled him to his feet, fluffed up the pillows, pulled back the comforter and lay it back over Sam once he was lying down.

“Please promise me you won’t tell Toby I just fluffed up your pillows,” Josh said shaking his head.

“Plumped,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Josh asked quietly. Sam seemed to be falling asleep.

“Plumped...more manly,” He closed his eyes, “still tell Toby though.”

Josh smiled as Sam finally drifted off to sleep. Like CJ before him, he hoped it would be a peaceful one, because he definitely wasn’t finding any peace when he was awake.


	5. Walking Wounded 5

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Sam coughed nervously and smiled at the woman behind the desk. He raised himself up and pulled his suit jacket away from his body. He brushed away imaginary fluff on his pants, adjusted his tie and then, finally, he sat back in his seat with his hands clasped firmly in his lap.

The receptionist smiled at Sam. He had been fidgeting ever since he had arrived for his appointment but she was used to clients’ nerves, especially on their first visit.

“Can I offer you a coffee Mr Seaborn?”

“No thank you,” Sam replied. She wished she had said nothing. Her question seemed to have set Sam off on another round of tie adjusting and suit-arranging. Sam sat still again. He tried to focus on his surroundings but all he could think about was the fact that in less than five minutes he would be expected to talk about what had happened. He couldn’t even think about it without shaking and feeling sick. He couldn’t even get past the memories of the thud and the scream that followed. The sound of them and the images that accompanied them played over and over in his mind. He coughed again, this time to try to clear the lump that had formed in his throat. The door to the office opened and a man emerged. He shook hands with someone who Sam couldn’t see and then went to chat with the receptionist. The door closed again. Sam brushed a hand through his hair and took a deep breath but it seemed to catch in his throat. The man and the woman turned to stare at him as he tried to recover from the coughing fit.

“Are you alright Sir?” the woman was approaching him. Sam stood up and walked away from her.

“I’m fine I just...” the thud echoed in his ear and this time the scream continued until he lifted his hand to his ears as if the sound was in the room and not his head. He could see the woman’s concerned expression as she tried to help him sit down but he moved out of her grasp, “I’m sorry I need to...I can’t do this...I don’t want to...” he stumbled backwards the man at the desk quickly stepped forward to steady him. Sam watched the woman’s mouth open and close but all he could hear was the scream. Doctor Brewer hurried out of his office. His mouth was opening too and the woman stepped away from Sam.

“Sam...Sam...Sam!” the last ‘Sam’ was shouted and it broke through to him he turned and looked at Brewer, “Okay Sam let’s go and sit down,” he shook his head at his assistant as he passed her. She was standing as if about to make a call but replaced the receiver when she saw the gesture.

“Sit down Sam, just here, that’s it,” Brewer went to get a glass of water and waited while Sam took a few sips, “You couldn’t hear me...out there...I was talking to you but you didn’t hear,” Sam looked at him and nodded slightly, “What could you hear?”

“Nothing,” Sam looked for somewhere to put the glass and felt it taken from his hand.

“When you had your hands over your ears what were you trying to block out, me and Susan or something else?”

Sam didn’t understand how this had happened. He didn’t want to be here. He had tried to get out but had somehow ended up in here with this man trying to make him talk. He stood up on shaky legs, “I don’t want to talk,” he started to move towards the door.

“We don’t have to talk Sam but I’d like you to stay here until you’re feeling a little more like yourself.”

“I have to go, I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to listen, I don’t want to be here.”

“Don’t talk, don’t listen but stay here until you can stand up without looking like you’re going to collapse,” the doctor suggested.

Sam sat down again, “Okay,”

True to his word Doctor Brewer didn’t talk to Sam, he just sat behind his desk and immersed himself in his paperwork. When he saw Sam was about to go he got up and walked towards him, “Come back when you’re ready,” he hid his surprise when Sam offered his hand, amazed that the man who was a wreck a few moments ago had appeared to pull himself together so effectively.

Sam walked out of the building and stood on the sidewalk letting the rushing people move around him. He looked at his watch and worked out that he had a couple of hours before Josh and Toby would start ringing him to see how it went. He was still shaking slightly and suddenly felt nauseous. He ducked into an alleyway and held onto the wall as he vomited behind a trash bin. He emerged from the alley to find two women staring at him with disapproving looks. One of them shook her head and mumbled something. Sam heard her point and caught the words ‘worse than the homeless ones’. He didn’t feel any desire to correct them, and wondered if being drunk right now wouldn’t be such a bad idea. As he thought about how the only time he had managed to stop the horrific images and sounds that increasingly haunted him was when he was drunk, the desire to lose himself became overwhelming. Drink was the only thing that deadened his emotions. He could talk later, when he was sober and she was still dead.

* * *

“Have you heard anything?” Josh stopped Toby as he passed his office.

“No.”

“Have you phoned him?”

“No.”

“Has he phoned you?”

“No and I think I really covered this when I said I hadn’t heard anything,” Toby stated keen to carry on his way.

“Right I’m going to phone him,” Josh reached for the phone, “I’ll try his apartment first,” he started to dial, “No, I’ll try his cell phone then I can leave a message,” he started to press the buttons then stopped, “Or do you think I should try him at home in case he...” Josh glanced up. Toby had gone and in his place stood Donna, “What are you doing?”

“Toby told me to stand here and let him know if you said anything interesting.”

“Shut the door,” Donna stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her.

“No,” Josh shook his head, “I meant go away and shut the door behind you.”

Wordlessly Donna exited his room. Josh started to dial Sam’s number again. He listened to the ring tone and as the answer machine started Donna came back into the room.

“Toby said to watch channel nine,” she watched Josh trying to find the remote and then walked over to the television and switched to the right channel. Josh came and stood beside her. He didn’t recognise the man or the show on the screen and he queried if Donna had the right channel. They both turned their attention back to the television when they heard Sam’s name mentioned. Old footage of the funeral was being shown. There were clips Josh had seen before of Claire’s mother walking towards the church supported by her husband and son. The picture cut back to the studio where the man now sat next to Claire’s brother. He turned to face him.

“Obviously that was a very traumatic day for you Stephen, but your grief over your sister’s death has been compounded by the fact that you don’t believe you have been told the whole story. Could you tell us about that?”

Stephen started to speak; he looked pale and tired, “My sister’s death was no accident. The White House, paramedics and police officers should be brought to account for what really happened that morning.”

“Please tell us what you think happened,” the presenter prompted.

“Please don’t,” Josh mumbled.

“I believe Sam Seaborn was drunk...”

“Oh come on! At eight-thirty in the morning,” Josh said.

“...the other possibility is that he fell asleep at the wheel.”

“Well which one is it?” Josh shouted at the television.

“Ssh Josh,” Donna kept her gaze on the screen but placed a hand on Josh’s arm.

“This whole psychogenic shock thing is just a story to explain why he went to the White House instead of staying at the scene.”

“This is a joke,” Josh murmured as he walked past Donna and out of the room.

Toby was switching off his television when Josh stormed into his office, “Why is he saying this?” Josh fumed.

“Because he’s grieving and trying to make sense of what happened and he can’t so he’s looking for someone to blame,” Toby spoke calmly and his tone forced Josh to stop pacing and sit down, “No one will pay attention to this. The hosts as good as dismissed what he said-”

“After letting him say it,” Josh interrupted.

“It’s nothing to worry about. What really happened is pretty well documented. I expected him to say something like this. I agree it’s less than ideal but it could have been a lot worse,” Toby waited for Josh to calm down, “No one’s going to believe it,” he concluded.

“Yeah because it’s not like this administration has ever been accused of perpetrating a lie before.”

Toby ignored the comment, “Go and phone Sam and just hope that wherever he is, he didn’t see it.”

As Josh nodded in reply CJ entered, “I’m here for the spin,” Josh stood and she took his place on the sofa, “but don’t make me say psychogenic shock again because someone will ask me how to spell it and I just get the letters p-s-y and h floating in front of my eyes.”

Toby smiled, reached for his notepad and sat down next to CJ. Josh left them to it, if CJ and Toby weren’t going to worry neither was he. Something bothered him about Stephen Walsh though. The way he had said Sam’s name had chilled Josh. He didn’t think he had ever seen so much hate expressed in one word before. He went back to his office and reached for the phone again.

* * *

Four hours later Josh sat at the top of the stoop outside Sam’s apartment. He had left messages on Sam’s cell and home phone but he’d had no reply. It was a mild evening and Josh was prepared to sit here until Sam returned home. He was debating if he could give Sam’s stoop as a delivery address for a pizza when a cab pulled up and Sam stumbled out of it. Josh watched as he negotiated the first steps a look of concentration on his face that in happier times would have made Josh laugh. Sam held onto the railing as he made his way up the steps. Josh sat and waited for him to reach the top before greeting him. Suddenly Sam stopped walking. He swapped his hands on the railings, spun round and sat down heavily. He still held onto the metal bar and rested his head against his outstretched arm.

Josh didn’t move. He was unsure of what to do. He waited to see if Sam was just having a rest but he didn’t move and so Josh stood up and walked down the steps towards him.

“Sam,” Josh warned Sam of his presence before getting too close but he didn’t appear to hear him. “Sam,” Josh spoke more loudly and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. There was still no response so Josh sat down next to him. He was thinking whether he should shout at Sam for drinking again or offer words of comfort, when Sam’s head slipped away from his arm that still held onto the railing and Josh realized that he was asleep. Josh reached behind him and loosened his hand from the railing as Sam’s arm fell downwards his head rolled forward. Josh caught him and shook him until he woke. Sam turned bleary eyes towards Josh,

“Just five more minutes and I’ll have it done,” he murmured. Josh ignored the nonsensical statement and hoisted him to his feet. He turned them both around and struggled up the remaining steps. Luckily a neighbour was leaving as they reached the door and held it open for them. When they got to Sam’s apartment Josh dumped him unceremoniously on the floor and rummaged for the keys in his pockets. He unlocked the door and wedged it open. He pulled Sam up again and heard him mumble, “Nearly finished.”

“God Sam so am I you weigh a tonne.”

The thought of getting him to his bed was too much for Josh and he settled for sitting Sam on the sofa, pushing his head down and pulling his feet up. He loosened his tie and belt, removed his shoes and covered him with a blanket. Aware of Sam’s recent penchant for vomiting he laid him on his side, placing a pillow behind him so that he couldn’t roll back. It was only six o’clock so Josh ordered the pizza and went down to his car to get some work to fill the time.

Two hours later Josh was still engrossed in his work when he heard a murmur followed by a groan. He recognised the signs and hoisted Sam up and as good as dragged him into the bathroom. When Sam was finished Josh pulled him up, bent him over the bath and sprayed cold water from the shower on his head. Sam struggled but was in no state to overcome Josh’s firm grip. When he thought Sam had had enough he wrapped a towel around his head and pulled him away from the bath. Sam sat leaning against the towel rail opposite Josh who sat against the bath.

“Gee dad, does this mean I’m grounded?” Sam’s attempt at humour got no response so he raised his head to discover Josh staring at him.

“Well I’m glad you can see the funny side because watching you puking your guts up is really getting a little boring for me.”

Josh’s gaze switched to the shelf above Sam’s head and a look of disbelief fell upon his face, “Sam,”

“Yeah,”

“There’s a bottle of Mr Bubble on your shelf.”

Sam rubbed his hand over his face, “I know.”

“You know! Sam there’s a bottle of Mr Bubble on your shelf!”

“Do you think it’s been planted by the Mr Bubble bogey man?”

“That would frighten me less than the thought that you actually bought it.”

“This is the 21st century I think a man can feel free to buy whatever brand of bubble bath he chooses.”

“Okay, ‘Mr Bubble’, and I’m reading from the bottle here Sam, I think you should listen to this, ‘Mr Bubble has a new richer, thicker formula with skin soother that safely and gently cleans children's sensitive skin with lots of long lasting bubbly fun’ do you really think that’s the sort of thing a man should have in his bathroom.”

“Are you denying a man his right to choose?” Sam asked.

“No, but I’m beginning to wonder if ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ should apply to the purchase of bubble baths.”

Sam rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. A mixture of a sigh and a laugh left his mouth. Josh continued to gaze around Sam’s bathroom. A tap dripped in the sink and the open window invited the noise of the traffic below to accompany the sound. Through the open door Josh could see the worktop in Sam’s kitchen, “Sam,”

“Yeah,”

“There’s an empty bottle of scotch on your worktop,”

Sam’s eyes opened and he looked at Josh, “I know.”

“It was full on Friday. When did you start downing bottles of scotch over a weekend?”

Sam just shrugged.

“That was a stupid question. I should be asking you when you started drinking in the middle of the day,” Sam closed his eyes again, this time the sound was definitely a sigh.

“That was a stupid question too. I know when you started drinking and I know why you started. You’ve got to stop Sam. This isn’t the answer.

The two men stared at each other. Finally Sam spoke, “My shoulder doesn’t hurt and my head doesn’t ache when I’m drunk. I don’t hear the sound of her...I can’t hear her scream. She isn’t dead when I’m drunk Josh.”

Sam hung his head but Josh continued to stare at him. He had no idea what he could say to comfort Sam. He watched as his exhausted friend slipped further down the wall and felt like any chance he had of helping him was slipping away too.


	6. Walking Wounded 6

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Sam didn’t tell Josh that he hadn’t kept his appointment with Doctor Brewer. He didn’t really need to; Josh guessed as much. Josh had stayed the night and took Sam into work on Tuesday. Nobody mentioned the dinner for which Sam was eternally grateful. He spent the morning in his office and had the feeling that Toby was making sure he stayed there. After lunch he reluctantly phoned the First Lady’s office and made an appointment for later in the afternoon. Five minutes before he was due to go he went into Toby’s office.

“So anyway, I’ve got to go and see the First Lady.”

Toby looked up from his papers, “Good, she can give you the lecture that everyone else is avoiding.”

“Well I’ve already got a headache so...” Sam loitered by the door, “Couldn’t you phone her and say Ginger is giving me the lecture?”

“I couldn’t,” Toby studied Sam, “Have you taken something for your head?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just the whiplash.”

“So you’re taking something for that?” Toby asked.

“I’m sorry?” 

Toby put down his papers, “For the whiplash, your doctor gave you something for that?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah he gave me something,” Sam hurried off to the East Wing. He hadn’t lied to Toby; his doctor had given him something he just wasn’t taking it.

* * *

“I’m going to give you a number Sam,” Mrs Bartlet reached over for a piece of paper. She hadn’t lectured Sam, she hadn’t even mentioned what had happened the other night. Sam gripped the edge of the chair desperate not to reveal the pain he was now feeling in his neck and head. Two more minutes, he thought, and I will be out of here and lying on Toby’s sofa. 

“Are you alright Sam? You seem to be holding your head a little stiffly.”

“It’s just whiplash,” Sam explained, “The doctor gave me something,” he added, hoping that would appease her.

“It’s not ‘just’ whiplash Sam. Whiplash can be a very serious injury. You need to arrange to have some physiotherapy?” as she spoke she wrote another number down and handed the piece of paper to Sam, “Doctor Radon is a friend of mine and specializes in neck and shoulder injuries. He doesn’t like patients who don’t take what’s been prescribed for them so you better start taking whatever your doctor gave you before you see him.”

Damn she’s good, Sam thought as she started to tell him about the other name.

“Doctor Chapman is very highly regarded. He’s been working with a friend of mine who had a similar experience to yours. He’s good Sam. I’m not going to force you to talk to someone and I’m not going to check if you have. I am privileged to know some of the most amazing people in this country. I meet and work with intelligent, powerful, tenacious men and women every day. But I haven’t met anyone yet who could deal with what happened to you without seeking help.”

“Thank you Doctor Bartlet,” It was all Sam could think to say. He needn’t have worried, the tone of his voice told her the impact her words had had on him. 

Toby looked up at Sam as he entered his office. He recognised the look on his face and wordlessly removed his briefcase from the sofa so that Sam could lie down. Toby watched as Sam removed his jacket and flung it over the back of the sofa. He curled up on his side and turned away from Toby. 

“If your headaches are so bad that you have to keep coming in here to lie down then maybe you should go back to your doctor,” Toby suggested. There was no response from Sam, “Are you not answering because you’re asleep or are you pretending to be asleep so that you don’t have to answer?”

“Pretending,” Sam mumbled. 

“And you say we don’t have our little chats anymore,” Toby reached over and pulled down the blinds, switched off the light, switched on his lamp and settled down to work.

Toby had become so engrossed in what he was reading that when he first heard Sam’s voice he jumped at the realisation that someone else was in the room. Sam quietened and Toby returned to his work. A little while later Sam mumbled something again. His breathing was loud and rapid and when Toby put the light on he could see Sam was sweating. Before Toby could decide whether to wake him or not Sam cried out and sat bolt upright on the sofa. The sound caused everyone in the bullpen to stop working and look towards Toby’s office and Josh to come running from his. By the time he had arrived Sam had stood up and was leaning over Toby’s desk breathing hard. Toby and Josh watched as Sam tried to calm himself down taking in deep shuddering breaths and breathing out equally unevenly. Toby was waiting for Sam to recover before he started to talk to him, so Sam’s sudden cry of ‘damn it’ startled him almost as much as the sight of the lamp and papers being swiped off the desk. The lamp landed heavily on the floor and the papers fluttered slowly down behind it. Outside a phone rang and Josh realised that along with Sam’s breathing it was the only sound he could hear in the now silent bullpen. Josh noticed Sam’s hands gripping onto the desk. He wondered if they would ever be able to prise them off he seemed to have such a hold of it. Toby took a step towards the desk.

“Sam,” Toby cleared his throat, “Sam,” He gently put his hand on Sam’s arm, “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” Sam started to shake his head, “It’s not alright,” Sam pushed away from the desk, “Alright...how can you say that? Alright...” Sam started to laugh as he turned to Josh and Toby and repeated ‘alright’ as if it was the funniest word he had ever heard. He walked out of the office and went into his own, shutting the door behind him. 

“What should we do?” Josh asked.

“Well, why don’t we go in there and ask Sam if something’s happened that’s upset him.” 

“That’s a good...oh, that was sarcasm,” Josh joined Toby at the window and they watched as Sam pretended to be absorbed by the papers he held, “I don’t know what to do,” Josh admitted.

“No one does. Maybe this is good...all of this...emotion. Maybe he’s dealing with it better than we realize,” Josh nodded and walked towards the door. He paused before he opened it.

“That was just a comfort thing right? I mean you don’t actually believe that,” 

“No I don’t,” Toby admitted as Josh left his office and left him pretending not to watch Sam who in turn was pretending not to notice.

* * *

Josh had stayed at the office until late. When he had gone to check on Sam he had found Toby in his office switching off his laptop for him and tidying away his work.

“He said he was going to get some air but he hasn’t come back.” 

Josh knew immediately that Sam would be in some bar somewhere. His need for alcohol was as great as his need for ‘air’ at the moment. He considered telling Toby what had happened last night but changed his mind. Josh was sure this was just a stage that Sam was going through and that it wouldn’t lead to anything more serious. Josh had stayed late in the hope that he was wrong and that Sam would come back to the West Wing. He didn’t, and so Josh left for home checking a few bars on the way.

Josh had fallen asleep on the sofa. In his dream his alarm clock was buzzing and someone was calling him. As he woke he realized that it wasn’t his alarm that was buzzing it was his door and that someone ‘was’ calling him. He walked over to the intercom rubbing at his eyes. 

“Hello,” No one answered but he could hear men talking in the background and whoever had been calling his name had started again. He realized the sound was coming from outside. He pulled the curtains, opened the window and leaned out.

“Josh...Josh.”

“Oh shit,” Josh recognized Sam’s voice and as his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out the swaying figure of his friend. There were other people too and Josh saw Sam push one of them away from him before he pulled his head back into the room and dashed out of his apartment. When he got outside he found Sam and two of his neighbours arguing. One of them was shouting at Sam that if you’ve forgotten the number of a friend’s apartment you don’t just press every buzzer. Sam, using drunken logic, was arguing that that is exactly what you do. Josh managed to pacify his neighbours, apologising on Sam’s behalf for disturbing them. He waited until the last curtain had stopped twitching before he approached Sam.

“I was tempted to let you carry on discussing ‘buzzer protocol’ you seemed to be winning the debate,” Josh went and sat down next to Sam.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you what? You know the number of my apartment you just forgot-”

“No,” Sam interrupted, “Why didn’t you tell me about her brother?”

“Oh,” 

“Oh,” Sam repeated, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” he continued in a sing-song voice. He grabbed hold of the railing and pulled himself up. “He said his sister’s death was no accident and that we, well I, should be brought to account for what happened,” Sam stumbled slightly and Josh reached out to steady him, Sam mimicked the host who had interviewed Claire’s brother, “Obviously a very traumatic day for you Stephen, but why don’t you tell us about your ludicrous conspiracy theory,” Sam walked to the other side of the steps, “Well why don’t I tell you about my day Stephen. Why don’t I tell you how one minute I was driving along and the next your sister’s body was slamming against my windshield and how everything is fucked up because of it... everything,” Sam sat down suddenly, “It’s all...fucked...up.”

Josh came and sat down next to Sam. He started to offer some words of comfort but was silenced by Sam who twisted around and grabbed the lapels of Josh’s jacket, “What am I going to do?” Sam was shaking Josh, “Tell me what to do.”

“I don’t know Sam,” Sam’s hold of Josh’s jacket was so tight that he was almost choking him. His knuckles were white and his hands were shaking. Josh put his hands over Sam’s and prised them open, “I don’t know,” Josh continued to hold Sam’s hands which rested against Josh’s chest. They stared at each other until Sam finally relaxed and pulled out of Josh’s grasp. 

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t see an end to this. I can’t see how it ends,” Josh knew Sam was drunk but the sentiment behind the words still scared him. 

“You can cut that crap for a start,” Josh pulled Sam around and when he didn’t look up he pulled his head towards him, “I mean it Sam, I don’t care if you’re drunk or sober, I’m not going to listen to you talk like that,” Sam looked at Josh with a bemused expression. He didn’t understand what he was talking about but he knew he looked scared and that wasn’t good. He tried to sooth him.

“I’m alright Josh...just drunk...I didn’t mean it,” Sam hoped that would make up for whatever he had said to upset Josh.

Josh recognised that he had overreacted and that he had interpreted the meaning of Sam’s words wrongly, “I thought you meant...it doesn’t matter. It’s getting late do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, but can we just sit here for a while, until those buildings stop swaying?”

“I think you’re the one that’s swaying,” Josh pointed out, “We can sit here as long as you like. If you want to sit here all night then that’s what we’ll do.”

Sam tuned his bleary eyes to Josh, “You locked yourself out didn’t you.”

“Yeah,” Josh admitted.

They sat in silence. Sam closed his eyes and tried to stop the sensation that the stoop was spinning. Josh closed his too and tried to figure out how he could get back into his apartment.  Neither of them noticed the man sitting in his car watching them and they didn’t notice as his car pulled slowly away.

* * *

As the days passed Sam seemed to be getting back to normal. His emotions were more balanced and watching him rushing to the men’s room with his hand over his mouth had stopped being a daily occurrence. Nobody talked about what had happened. Televisions were switched off and newspapers hidden if the accident was mentioned. There was an air of sadness to Sam, everyone acknowledged that, but mostly people were impressed that he had been able to come back to work and deal with what had happened so quickly. 

Toby wasn’t fooled though. Sam did everything that was asked of him and always finished before any deadlines but what he wrote was painful to read. There was no passion or flair to the words just a text that covered the main points which Toby would then reorder and embellish.

Josh wasn’t fooled either. He had the feeling that Sam wasn’t dealing with it so well when Sam called for the third night in a row and asked if he would come and collect him from whatever Washington Bar stool he was slowly sliding off at the time. 

The first time it had happened Sam had been ashamed and apologised to Josh all the way home. The forth time Sam had just phoned, said the name of the bar, hung up and waited for Josh to come and get him.

“You know, I don’t think you’re dealing with this very well,” 

Josh kept his eyes on the road as he spoke, 

“I’ve been picking up on the signs, I’m intuitive like that, you know, subtle things like refusing to talk about it, waking up screaming three times a night, getting wasted straight after work, by the way do you want me to pull over now so you can puke or do you want to wait until we get home?” 

Sam ignored Josh but he carried on, “Toby told me your writing’s flat,” Sam looked at him but still didn’t speak, “He thinks you should have some time off. He thinks you should visit your parents or something,” 

Sam turned away again and carried on looking out of the window, “Is this going to stop soon? Haven’t you had enough of this? I know I have. Beer is a temporary solution. Homer said that...Homer Simpson not the Iliad Homer,” Sam smiled slightly but didn’t respond.

 Josh knew Sam wouldn’t speak again tonight. He would be sick, let Josh help him into bed and then later let Josh calm him down after a nightmare all without saying a word. He was ashamed of the drinking and as he sobered up his shame intensified. The shame was soon replaced with the guilt that had become his constant companion when sober. It showed itself in the images and sounds that haunted him still. He battled with it through the day but never won and would eventually end up heading for the nearest bar. The shame of drinking was comparatively easier to bear than the guilt of killing.

Eventually the day came when everyone realized Sam wasn’t coping. It started innocuously enough; Toby was sitting at his desk reading the fifth rewrite of a paragraph to Sam. As Sam listened to him start the sixth version he sighed and leaned back heavily against the sofa. His weight dislodged Toby’s briefcase and the pile of papers that were resting on top of it. He quickly reached forward to grab it. The action took him back to that morning. His briefcase had been on the passenger’s seat. There had been papers on top. Sam had reached for them, grabbed them, shuffled them back into place. That wasn’t what had happened though. Josh had told him. Toby had told him. He had slowed down. She had tripped. All of the witnesses said that was what had happened. But what if he had been distracted by the briefcase slipping off the seat? Sam’s guilt was now justified. The witnesses hadn’t seen him grabbing at the papers. Maybe he could have swerved if he hadn’t have been distracted. Sam watched the papers flutter to the floor then stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Toby was taken by surprise by Sam’s sudden movement.

“Nothing, I just need...I want to...I’m going to get something to eat.” Sam left the office without waiting for a reply. He walked to the Mess, grabbed a tray and joined the queue. The man in front was having trouble deciding which sandwich to choose. Three more people waited behind Sam. He tightened his hold on the tray to try to stop his hands from shaking. He heard someone say hello but he didn’t answer. Sam told himself he was fine, he just needed to get something to eat and then sit down somewhere quiet for a while. Not here, it was too noisy here, too many people. It was hot too; Sam pulled at his tie and loosened his collar. Why was this man taking so long? It’s only a sandwich for Christ’s sake. Sam pulled at his collar again; he was sure the Mess wasn’t usually this hot. He felt trapped. The man was stopping him moving along and behind him three women were hunched close together their sporadic laughter seemed unnaturally loud to Sam. He looked at the distance to the way out. There were chairs in the way and people, it was too far. Sam leant against the counter and tried to calm his breathing. People were looking at him now and if he tried to walk out he was sure he would collapse before he could get to the door. The fear of moving kept him rooted to the spot. He closed his eyes and tried to think of other things apart from the exit that seemed to be getting farther and farther away and the Mess that seemed to be getting smaller. He felt a hand on his arm but didn’t open his eyes until the person’s other hand touched his face. 

“Sam...Sam, come and sit down...get him a chair...give him some space,” Sam could hear Donna’s voice and felt himself guided towards a chair his head was being pushed down between his knees but Sam didn’t feel like he was going to faint he felt like he couldn’t breath. He sat up, pushing against the hand that was rubbing his back.

“Sam it’s alright,” 

Donna spoke soothingly but Sam could hear more urgent voices around him, “Open a window...loosen his tie...does he have asthma?” He batted their hands away and tried to stand but felt arms pushing him down. 

The next voice he heard cut through the others, “Okay try to relax, stop gasping and start breathing...slowly...that’s it,” Toby stood by his side ordering the people who had gathered around Sam to move away. Sam tried to stand again he wanted to get out of the Mess and hoped Toby would take him back upstairs. He tried to tell Toby but only managed to croak his name between his increasingly frantic gasps for breath. Toby understood what he wanted and led him away from the remainder of onlookers who still stood staring at Sam. He guided him over to the corner of the room and sat him in a chair with his back to the room. 

“Someone get the White House photographer down here then you can get a photo as a keepsake- Jesus,” Josh pushed past the people who, embarrassed by his words, had started to turn away from Sam and Toby. He walked quickly over to the corner. 

“What’s going on?” He asked as he crouched in front of Sam.

“It’s a panic attack,” Donna muttered then more loudly, “Sam you’re okay this is just a panic attack okay. You’re going to be fine you just need to breathe slowly,” Josh stepped aside and made way for Donna, relieved that she seemed intent on taking charge. He watched as she took hold of Sam’s hand and told him to look at her, “Do you understand what’s happening?” Sam nodded but he didn’t seem able to follow her advice and his breathing became increasingly rapid. He looked up at Toby his eyes were wide open, his face bleached of colour and his whole body seemed to be trembling.

“Ask if they’ve got a paper bag,” Donna said to Josh. He headed off to the counter not questioning her request. He came back with a bread bag and shook the crumbs from it before handing it to her.

“Sam you need to breath into this. Ten slow breaths okay,” She placed the bag over his mouth and nose and held it in place.

“I thought that was for hiccups,” Josh questioned.

“My dad used to have attacks like this. I know what I’m doing Josh.”  

Josh and Toby stood and watched as Donna continued to calm Sam down. She covered the bag to his face four times before his breathing began to return to normal. After a while Donna pulled up a chair and sat next to him and Toby and Josh did the same. The four of them sat there until Sam felt steady enough to stand up and walk back to Toby’s office. Sam began to apologise but Toby told him to shut up. He grabbed Sam’s arm and wouldn’t let Sam shake him off. Josh and Toby supported him as he slowly made his way up the stairs. The people who had stood in the Mess watching the Deputy Communications Director gasping for breath had gone back to their various offices and told their colleagues about their trip to the Mess which had been much more exciting than usual. Everybody knew now, everybody knew that Sam wasn’t coping very well.


	7. Walking Wounded 7

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Josh took the pencil from behind his ear and drew a large circle around the ad in the paper. He tapped it on the edge of the sofa while he studied the information before circling two more. Sam was taking a long time to get ready but Josh didn’t say anything. He was so pleased that Sam had finally agreed to spend Saturday morning looking for cars that he dared not say anything to make him change his mind.

Sam emerged from the bedroom and Josh looked up from the paper, “There are some great cars here...we definitely picked a good weekend to go car hunting.”

“Picked a good morning- I’m just spending the morning looking then I’m going into work,” Sam grabbed his keys and cell and held the door open for Josh. Sam let Josh dictate where they went and listened to him rave on about the cars he had circled. 

“I was thinking of a VW...a Passat or something like that,” Sam spoke quietly.

“Okay, so let’s go and look at those.”

Sam had been thinking of getting a new car before the accident. When the garage had phoned he had told them to sell his car on, he didn’t even want to look at it again. Travelling around with Josh today would be a lot easier than arguing with him and buying a new car would stop Josh going on about how Sam should be, ‘getting back in the saddle’ for a while at least. Sam couldn’t picture himself ever driving a car again though. He felt the car come to a stop and realized Josh had pulled up in front of a large forecourt. A row of flags flapped in the breeze above a line of shining, brand new Passats. Sam followed Josh over to the cars. He stood and watched as Josh sat inside of one and started adjusting the seat.

Josh leaned out of the window, “This is roomy...for a VW I mean,” Sam stood by the side of the car his hands in his pockets. He climbed into the passenger seat but only because he had just seen a salesman making his way towards them and didn’t want to have to talk to him.

“VW’s aren’t known to not be roomy. You’re not going to do that all day are you?”

“Do what?” Josh nodded at the salesman as he approached them.

“Pretend you know about cars,” Sam answered.

Before Josh could defend himself the salesman came up to the side of the Passat and began telling him about the various redeeming features of the GL5 model. When Josh requested a test drive Sam stayed in the passenger’s seat making it clear to Josh that if he wanted to go on a test drive he would be the one doing the driving.

Sam was impressed with the interior and found himself liking the car increasingly as the drive progressed. Suddenly Josh stopped and started to rev the engine.

“What are you doing?” A bemused Sam asked.

“I’m listening,” Josh held his hand up to silence Sam.

“What are you listening for?” Josh didn’t answer, “Hey, Schumacher, what are you listening for?”

Josh ignored Sam and started to drive again, “Well the engine sounds...”

Sam physically turned towards Josh, “Oh this is going to be good. The engine sounds...”

“Worthy of a Volks Wagon!” Josh declared triumphantly.

Sam shook his head and started leafing through the buyers’ guide. Josh found a parking lot and pulled in, “Do you want to drive it back?”

“No,” Sam’s answer was emphatic and Josh knew better than to ask again.

Josh watched as Sam paid the deposit and signed the various agreements. He arranged to have the car delivered early next week and Josh drove them both to the White House in silence.

Sam stayed late. He went straight to his office and let Josh tell Toby about the morning’s shopping expedition. After a few hours he went into Toby’s office with the first draft of the speech they were working on. He handed it to Toby and walked over to the window.

“I know I’m not writing well. Why haven’t you said anything?”

“What’s the point of telling you something you already know,” Toby countered, “It will get better in time. It’s not as if you’re not writing you’re just not writing with your usual...flair.”

Sam continued to stare out of the window, “Has there been any comeback from what happened in the Mess?”

“No,” Toby was lying. Leo had heard about it and insisted Toby make Sam take some time off. Toby and Josh had managed to dissuade him. They both knew it would be better if Sam was at work where they could keep an eye on him. 

Sam rubbed at his neck and rolled his head from side to side, “I bought a car today.”

“Yeah Josh said. That’s good you can’t just never drive again.”

“Why can’t I?” Sam spun around, “Why can’t I? It hasn’t been a problem. I only bought the damn thing to shut Josh up.”

Toby waited for Sam’s anger to fade before he answered, “Then you need do what the First Lady told you to.”

“How do you know what she...oh...she said she wouldn’t ask me if I had taken her advice, I guess I should have realized she didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask you,” Sam turned back towards the window, “I’m doing fine. I don’t need to talk about it. I don’t need someone trying to persuade me I have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Well yeah, except you do- that’s exactly what you need and you definitely need someone to treat your shoulder,” Sam immediately removed his hand from his neck.

“I might go and see the doctor she recommended for my neck but I’m not going to see the other guy,” Sam reached forward and leaned on the windowsill.

“The other guy being Doctor Chapman the psychoanalyst?” 

“No Toby, I was talking about the shoeshine on 24th,” Sam closed his eyes, “I don’t want someone to try to make me feel better. I deserve to feel like this. As long as her parents have to live without their daughter and her brother has to live without his sister I should feel like this.”

“God Sam you are so, so wrong. You’ve got to give someone a chance to make you see that it’s alright to not feel guilty. It doesn’t mean you don’t care it doesn’t make you hardened to it but you can’t go on living with this the way you are.”

Toby watched as Sam stood up straight and let go of the windowsill. He opened his eyes and turned to face Toby, “You know what the really frightening thing is? Sometimes I’m not sure if I can go-”

“Mary Marsh just got hit by an egg!” Josh burst into the room, “You should have seen it...splat right in the middle of her hypocritical, prejudiced face. Donna got it on video you should come and watch it’s even better in slow motion,” Josh stopped talking and noticed that Sam and Toby were staring at each other and they didn’t appear to have heard a word he said. Josh laughed nervously, “What’s going on?”

“Give us a minute,” Toby didn’t take his eyes off Sam as he spoke and he waited for Josh to leave the room, shutting the door behind him, before he continued, “Were you about to tell me that you feel suicidal?”

It was seconds but it felt like minutes to Toby before Sam finally answered, “No,” Then in a clearer voice, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then tell me what the really frightening thing is,” Sam broke the stare that the two men had held since Josh had arrived. He looked out to the bullpen and saw Josh sitting on Ginger’s desk, “Sam, tell me.”

Sam looked back at Toby, “It’s nothing. I just...sometimes I just...how am I going to be able to live with this? I don’t see how I will ever get over it. You remember what Josh said the night of the dinner?” Toby nodded, “He was so right, she’ll still be dead when I’m sober, she’ll still be dead when I go to bed and she’ll still be dead in the morning and I’m frightened that that’s my life now. Nothing will ever be good again because it will always be deadened by that. I’ll always be deadened by it.”

“Sam define suicidal for me because that sounded pretty suicidal to me,” Sam looked up at Toby a brief flicker of a smile crossed his face.

“I’m not suicidal Toby,” he reiterated.

“I know, and I don’t know what to say apart from get help. See someone. Talk to someone. You didn’t kill Claire Walsh; bad luck, an untied shoelace or a wonky paving slab did. It happened to both of you. You’re a victim of what happened too.”

“Done to death by an untied shoelace. It’s an interesting theory Toby but I think it was probably the impact of my car and being flung onto the road that actually killed her,” Toby shook his head as he realized Sam wasn’t even prepared to try to rationalize his feelings.

Josh had given up being patient and was now standing outside Toby’s office waiting to be let in. Toby held up his hand he had a feeling Sam had more he wanted to say. Sam turned back towards the window and rested his head against the wall. His shoulders were hunched and his arms were folded. “When I had that panic attack it was because I’d remembered something. Your briefcase started to slide off the sofa and I remembered...in the car...the speech was on top of the...” Suddenly Sam swung around to face Toby, “I think that’s what I was doing. I think I was looking at the papers on my briefcase. They started to slide off and I grabbed them. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Maybe I could have swerved or stopped in time if I’d been looking.”

Toby walked towards Sam he was getting himself into a state again his breathing was rapid and he had wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Toby took hold of Sam’s shoulders and shook him. He spoke loudly, Josh could hear every word. He told him everything the police and witnesses had said. He told him that there was no way that Sam had been doing that when the accident had happened.

“You slowed down, you know you did, the driver behind could see you clearly you were not reaching for anything when it happened. If you did try to grab the papers it must have happened earlier- as you went around a corner probably,” Toby saw something register on Sam’s face. He sagged against the wall and let Toby support him for a moment.

“It did, it happened before when I was turning onto...it was long before I was anywhere near...but when I saw your briefcase slipping off the chair I remembered the same thing happening in my car. I must have remembered it wrongly that’s all.”

Sam straightened up and Toby let go of him as Josh came into the room, “What’s going on? And don’t fob me off this time.”

“Sam thinks his life will be forever ‘deadened’ by what has happened but we don’t need to worry because he assures me he’s not suicidal,” Toby deadpanned.

“Well that’s a relief, for a moment I thought you were having trouble with the speech.”

Sam unfolded his arms and smiled at Josh, “Have you come to take me home?”

“Yep, are you ready?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just grab my coat,” Josh only had time to glance at Toby before Sam returned. Toby’s expression had told Josh everything that he needed to know though; he managed to convey that everything was not alright but that Josh was to leave it alone in one look. 

* * *

Josh pulled up in front of Sam’s apartment and took his temporarily empty parking space, “There’s going to be a pretty impressive automobile sitting here soon my friend,” Josh sounded like a parent trying to convince his child that they would enjoy his first day at school. Sam didn’t answer; he wasn’t listening. He was staring at a car over the road. The driver was staring back. Sam watched as he started the engine and pulled away.

“Sam...Sam,” Josh was waving his hand in front of Sam’s face.

“Sorry- I thought I recognised someone,” Sam got out of the car and Josh followed him up to his apartment. Sam had seen Stephen Walsh parked outside his apartment a number of times. He knew eventually he would have to face him. In a strange way he was looking forward to it; being confronted by someone who agreed that what had happened was Sam’s fault.

Once inside his apartment Sam immediately poured himself a Jack Daniels. He offered a glass to Josh who declined at first but then, realizing Sam was going to drink alone anyway, accepted.

Sam had finished his second glass by the time Josh had emptied his first. Josh picked up the brochure for Sam’s car and started to flick through it while Sam poured himself another drink.

“It’s got a power glass sunroof.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Sam rested his head against the sofa and closed his eyes.

“Air-conditioning CFC free, electronic climate control,” Josh continued to read as Sam drained his glass, “This is really going to impress- it’s got a centre armrest with beverage holder.”

“Josh-”  

“Six disc CD changer-”

“Josh!” Josh stopped reading, “I’ve already bought it you can drop the ‘hard sell’.”

“I might go into the car trade when I’m done with politics. ‘Lyman’s Lott’- the best selection of used cars in Washington. ‘I didn’t cheat you when I served you in the White House and I won’t cheat you now’.”

“Do you think if I have a forth glass I’ll be able to wipe what you just said from my memory?”

“Well we’ll never find out, because I’m going home and you’re going to bed,” Josh picked up the two glasses and walked into the kitchen. By the time he had washed them and returned to the living room Sam had fallen asleep. He covered him with a blanket and quietly left the apartment.

* * *

Josh seemed more excited than Sam did about his new car arriving. He arranged with Toby and CJ that they would go over to Sam’s and take him out for dinner.

“You have to make enticing comments about it,” Josh instructed them, “I think I’m wearing him down. He almost sat in the driver’s seat last night.”

“You do realize he has no intention of driving it don’t you?” Toby said.

“It’s got a centre armrest with beverage holder Toby- he’ll crack eventually.”

Josh stuck his head out of his window as he pulled up next to the stoop and called out to Sam, “Do you want to drive us there?”

“About as much as I want to have another panic attack in the middle of the Mess,” Sam stated.

“See- I’m wearing him down...slowly...it’s a gradual process,” Josh said.

Sam sat in the back next to CJ. He was quiet on the way to the restaurant. It started to rain and Josh cursed. The only sound was of the torrential rain hitting the windshield and of the wipers furiously gliding to-and-fro. Sam was surprised when he felt CJ’s hand grab his but he returned the gentle squeeze and the four sat in companionable silence until they reached the restaurant.

Toby was pleased to see that Sam ate almost all of the meal. He wasn’t quite so pleased to see how much Sam seemed to need to drink to accomplish it. He was able to keep what he ate down now but the experience of not being able to had left him with a diminished appetite. 

Sam was quiet during the meal. He listened to his friends discussing the week’s events with a sense of detachment. He realized as they talked that he had very little knowledge of what had been happening and even less interest. When Josh asked Toby how the speech was going Sam excused himself and headed towards the men’s room.

He watched the cold water run through his fingers before cupping it and rinsing his face with it. He had felt in control at the table but now, in the cool of the men’s room, he suddenly felt the effects of the alcohol. He held on to the sink and took a few mouthfuls of water before rinsing his face again. 

As he made his way back to the table he could see someone talking to Toby. He was facing away from Sam and it was only as he neared the table that he recognised the voice of Congressman Richards. Toby stood up to allow Sam back to his space and the congressman halted his discussion with Josh, “Sam it’s good to see you. I must say I admire the way you’re handling what happened, such a tragic situation. The same thing happened to my Uncle. Well not exactly the same; he had a collision with a cyclist. He never got over it. I was only young at the time but I remember the sudden change in his personality. He went from being a dynamic, strong-willed man to a-”

“Oh God I’m so sorry Josh,” CJ righted her glass and frantically moved Josh’s wallet out of the way of her spilt drink which was running across the surface of the table. Toby quickly moved and discretely guided Sam back to his space. Toby and Josh had watched helplessly as Sam’s face had grown paler as the congressman’s speech had continued and they both silently praised CJ for bringing an abrupt end to it. Sam bowed his head and waited for the congressman to leave and the waiters to finish wiping up the remnants of CJ’s drink. When he looked up again he was greeted by the stares of his three companions.

“You ready?” Josh asked. At Sam’s nod the four of them left their table, collected their coats and walked outside. It was still raining heavily. They stood sheltered under an awning. Sam stood a little way off from the group. They didn’t notice that he wasn’t sheltering with them and was in fact standing in the rain. 

“I think it’s stopping we should wait here for a while,” Josh said as the rain furiously bounced off the sidewalk and poured down the posts from the awning above them.

“Stop stalling and go and get the car,” Toby ordered. 

“Okay, but I just want to say if we’d left on time I wouldn’t have to get soaked because I’d have got a space nearer the restaurant.”

“I was ready,” Toby protested, “I just needed a little time to...oh for God’s sake give me the keys. I’d rather get soaked than stand here arguing about where the damn car’s parked,” Toby held out his hand for the keys but Josh hadn’t been listening, he was looking past Toby a bemused expression on his face. He was looking at Sam.

Sam was unaware of Josh’s gaze or the rain that was running down his face and down the back of his collar. He was drunk, he was tired and he wanted to go home. He knew Josh had parked the car somewhere around here and he was fed up of waiting for the others. He walked towards the road, ignoring Toby’s raised voice, intent only on finding Josh’s car and getting home. Josh watched as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the road. Sam was staring straight ahead oblivious to all that was happening around him. The car horn blasting stirred him from his daze but he only managed to look up to where the sound was coming from. Toby heard the horn too it came seconds before Josh pushed him roughly out of his way. 

Sam could see lights now and they dazzled him. He felt ensnared by the beams and the silver raindrops that sliced through them. He felt an arm wrap around his chest and was pulled violently backwards. He crashed to the ground and felt a weight land on top of him. The car horn blasted again and the driver shouted obscenities as the car flew by. 

Sam was unable to make sense of what had happened. He looked up and saw Toby looking down at him and then he felt the weight lifting from his chest. Suddenly Josh grabbed his lapels and hoisted him up until he was almost sitting upright his face inches from Josh’s, “What the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Sam didn’t answer so Josh shook him angrily, “Answer me!” He shouted as he shook him even harder, “Answer me!” 

Toby and CJ watched fascinated as Josh’s anger vanished as quickly as it had come. He pulled Sam towards him and wrapped his arms around him, “You stupid, stupid...” Josh didn’t finish the sentence he just rocked Sam and held on. He didn’t let go until he heard a car pulling up behind him, a door opening and Toby pulling him to his feet. They drove back home the way they had arrived; in silence.


	8. Walking Wounded 8

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Leo stood in front of his desk with his arms folded. There was something going on, he could tell in the way Toby and CJ were both avoiding looking at him and in the furtive glances they kept casting at one another. Leo tapped his foot on the floor and the sound was more menacing than the glare he was aiming at Toby. When Sam and Josh finally arrived, Leo noticed Toby and CJ visibly relaxing. 

“Sorry Leo,” Josh said as he and Sam entered the room and sat down as quickly as possible. 

“Are you hung-over?” Leo asked he had watched Sam rub his forehead while sitting down gingerly as if the slightest movement would dislodge his fragile head from his shoulders.

“I’m sorry?” Sam looked up at Leo but quickly looked away again squinting at the light from the window behind him.

“Are you hung-over?” he repeated, his tone daring Sam to make him repeat it a second time. 

There was a silence in the room before Sam sighed and answered, “I’m not hung-over. It is, however, entirely possible that I am still drunk.”

Toby glanced at Josh who studied his hands in his lap. CJ looked at Josh also. Leo though didn’t take his eyes off Sam, “I need a few moments with Sam,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a g-”

Leo stopped Toby in mid-sentence, “Staff is finished,” his stare was still fixed on Sam. Josh stood and was followed out of the room by CJ and then a reluctant Toby. 

The three of them stood outside Leo’s office nobody knowing what to say until Toby whispered to Josh, “He wasn’t that drunk last night what happened?”

“He sneaked out. I was asleep. He came home this morning that’s why we’re late. If you think he looks bad now you should have seen him at six am.”

Toby threw his arms up in the air and sighed. He looked at CJ who was standing against Leo’s door, “CJ I think we’re above eavesdropping,” CJ waved her hand to silence him, “What can you hear?” Toby asked his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Leo is in full lecture mode...he’s saying something about...he’s warning Sam that the day that will come when he can’t even remember why he started drinking in the first place...Sam is laughing.”

“That’s probably not the reaction Leo was hoping for,” Josh muttered.

“Ssh,” CJ placed her head back against the door a puzzled expression on her face, “Leo has just called Sam Sir...oh,” She said as she realized who must have just entered Leo’s office. She quickly moved away from the door and joined Toby by Margaret’s desk. Trying to find out if they needed to rescue Sam from Leo was one thing but eavesdropping on the President was another thing altogether. They continued to wait in silence. Each secretly dreading the sound of Leo’s, or even worse, the President’s raised voice. When the office door was finally flung open it caused CJ to jump and Josh to drop the paper-clip dispenser he had been fiddling with.

“Josh can you get Donna...and she’ll need that paper bag again,” Leo explained.

“Oh God,” Toby moaned, “What happened?”

Leo pulled the door closed and lowered his voice, “It wasn’t me Toby. I think I was beginning to get through to Sam but then the President came in and seemed to think it was a brilliant time to get Sam to ‘open up’.

“Oh God,” Toby repeated.

“He started quoting statistics about road traffic accidents and how the really guilty ones were the drunk drivers who got into their vehicles with no thoughts of the consequences of their actions. Sam looked okay I thought but then he jumped up and started to mutter something about needing air. He barged into the edge of the sofa but luckily the President broke his fall.”

“Oh God,” This time Toby’s voice was muffled by the hands that covered his face. He felt a tug at his elbow and followed Josh and Donna into Leo’s office. Sam was sitting with his hands clutching the sofa on either side of him. The President sat beside him, one hand holding a glass of water and the other clasping Sam’s shoulder. It was hard to tell who was more relieved to see Donna arrive but Toby couldn’t remember seeing the President move out of a chair so quickly before. He moved out of Sam’s view but didn’t leave the room. Donna sat beside Sam and started to place the bag over his face watched by Josh, CJ and Leo. Sam surprised them all by leaping up and away from Donna. He couldn't see that she was there to help, he could just see that there were suddenly four people standing around him and they were crowding in on him, stealing his air.

“Sam...calm down,” Josh pleaded, “Donna’s going to help you like last time.”

“There’s too many...too many people,” Sam held onto Leo’s desk his breath coming in frantic gasps, “I can’t...too many...tell them Josh...I can’t breathe,”

Josh didn’t have to tell them anything. The President had already left the office and closed the adjoining door behind him. CJ, Toby and Leo followed suit and left by the other door. They stood in a line outside the closed door. Margaret looked up from her typing and then carried on. Finally she looked up again, “Should I stand with you?”

“No,” Leo answered.

“Okay,” Margaret looked back down at her keyboard and carried on with her work.

Josh guided Sam back to the sofa and Donna immediately placed the bag over his face. This time he allowed her to and covered her hand with his own. Ten deep breaths with the bag then fifteen seconds without it; Josh remembered the routine from last time and kept his own panic at bay by slowly counting out the breaths and seconds for Sam.

“It’s taking longer this time,” he said to Donna, “Why is it taking longer?”

“Shut-up Josh,” Sam managed to gasp. Josh didn’t say another word until Sam was leaning back, eyes closed and breathing normally again.

“Can I speak now?” Sam smiled and nodded, “I’m taking you home.”

Sam nodded again but stopped smiling. Donna walked with him to Josh’s office while Josh explained to Leo that he was going to spend the day at Sam’s. Leo agreed it was a probably a good idea. Josh had already cleared his day to catch up with paper work so there was nothing he was going to do at work that he couldn’t do at Sam’s.

* * *

Leo sat behind his desk a piece of paper was in his hand but his gaze was focused on the sofa where Sam had sat. The first he knew of the President’s presence was when he sat directly where Leo was staring.

“Why didn’t you tell me to shut-up, you normally do,” Jed said.

“It happened so quickly. I wasn’t expecting it either,” Leo and Jed sat in silence for a while until the President leaned forward and started to speak.

“You know, I knew this guy who took off in his father’s car, picked up his best friend and went out drinking and drag-racing. On the way home he overtook on a blind corner and smashed head-on into a pick-up truck. He escaped pretty unscathed but his friend died instantly,” the President sighed as he remembered the events that followed, “He took to drinking. Seeing his father come and drag him from a bar or alleyway late at night became a pretty regular occurrence.”

“So he got some help, this guy, got himself straightened out eventually?” Leo surmised the President’s story was designed to offer some hope and comfort over Sam’s situation.

“No, he took his father’s car out for the first time since the accident, downed a bottle of scotch then drove himself into a tree on the exact spot where the crash happened,” the president clasped his hands together and shook his head.

“What, did he come back as an angel and guide other reckless youths from making the same mistakes he made, because I fail to see the positive aspect to this tale.”

“Well there isn’t one. It’s just been on my mind a lot recently,” Jed explained.

“You might want to come up with a more up-lifting story if you’re planning on trying to ‘comfort’ Sam again.”

“I have plenty of up-lifting stories I can tell Sam and don’t say ‘comfort’ like you’re using it as a euphemism for ‘terrorize’.”

“I didn’t say a thing,” Leo held his hands up in the air.

Jed smiled at his friend and then his face became serious, “He died too that day didn’t he.”

“A part of him did certainly,” Leo agreed, “We’ll get him back, it will just take time that’s all.”

The President nodded slowly and held his friend’s gaze for a while before standing up, shouting for Charlie and going back to his office.

* * *

Sam was driving his new car. Josh was sitting beside him. The gear stick seemed to glide between positions and the foot pedals moved effortlessly beneath him. He held the steering wheel loosely and savoured the cool feel of the leather in his steady hands. He kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. Josh had managed to keep quiet for the start of the journey but now he began to talk, listing again the attributes of the new car as Sam turned out of his road and shifted up a gear.

“Electronic climate control...power glass sunroof...” The sky was cloudless and Sam reached for his sunglasses; he couldn’t find them, “Six disc CD changer, air conditioning...” Sam noticed a large spot of rain fall onto the windshield, “Not just any air conditioning it’s CFC free,” the rain was now hitting the windshield hard but Sam couldn’t work out how to switch on the wipers, “and let’s not forget the centre armrest with beverage holder,” Josh’s voice had changed, it was still Josh but Sam no longer recognised the voice which continued his list, “side and front impact bars...Claire Walsh...aged 26...” Sam spun around to Josh whose disembodied voice continued, “Law student...home for the holidays.”

“Why are you saying that? Stop saying that,” Sam pleaded. The steering wheel suddenly went loose in his hand, he lost control of the car and it started to swerve across the road. “Josh...I can’t...it’s...I can’t stop it,” Josh didn’t answer and Sam turned to look at him. He cried out at the sight of Claire Walsh, covered in blood and deathly pale sitting in the passenger’s seat. She smiled at Sam but then her expression changed as she looked straight ahead. She pointed and screamed. Sam turned glanced at the road ahead. Stephen Walsh was standing in the middle of the road staring at Sam’s car speeding towards him. Sam tried to break but the car wouldn’t stop, he tried to swerve but the steering wheel was now rigid. As he zoomed towards Claire’s brother he tried to close his eyes but found he was unable to do that as well. His car hit Stephen who landed on the hood, his face seemed to fill the windshield, and his arm reached for Sam through the glass as he mouthed the word ‘murderer’.

Sam lurched upwards. He could feel the hand grabbing at his shoulder he knocked it away and scrambled towards the end of the bed. His breathing was rapid and he realized interspersed with sobs. He felt the bed dip behind him and a hand on his shoulder again, this time he didn’t try to shake it off. They sat like that for a while until Sam got up, grabbed a clean t-shirt and went into the bathroom. When he returned Josh was lying above the covers on the bed scribbling on a pad. There was a glass of water on the bedside table which Sam gratefully sipped at. He got into bed and pulled the covers over him.

“Alright now?” Josh asked.

“Yeah...thanks,” Sam closed his eyes and when he didn’t feel Josh get up opened them again, “What are you doing?”

“Well if you have to keep disturbing me when I’m trying to work I thought I might as well stay in here. If you start to have another nightmare I’m going to prod you.”

“Prod me, you’re going to prod me,”

“Yeah or poke. I haven’t decided yet. Just go to sleep, some of us have actual work to do you know. And if you’re too tired to make sure I understand what the hell this is about the least you can do is shut up and sleep while I try to do it,” Josh explained.

Sam closed his eyes again, “Thanks,” he mumbled before falling asleep.

Josh sat on the bed and continued to work. He prodded Sam when he started to whimper, he poked him when his hands started to grasp at an imaginary steering wheel and he shook him when prodding or poking didn’t break through to him and disturb his nightmare. He had to wake him twice but Josh knew that despite that, it was probably the longest and deepest sleep he’d had for weeks.

When Sam woke he glanced at the clock but found it covered by a piece of paper.

Pulling it away, he cursed when he saw that it was nine-thirty and the alarm had been switched off. He sat up and started to read;

Sam,

Stop swearing! You needed the sleep and Leo doesn’t want you to come in today anyway. If you wake up before eleven you HAVE to phone me. I read that file three times last night and I am still absolutely clueless about what it is about! I have to meet with Reynolds at twelve. I have left the file on the kitchen table next to the croissants and orange juice. Speak to you later.

Josh

P.S There aren’t any croissants I made that up.

P.P.S I was lying about the orange juice too.

Sam sunk back onto the pillows and smiled. He needed to find some way to say thank you to Josh. Obviously he could read the file and make sure Josh had a good handle on it but he needed to do something more. His stomach turned as he realized what it was he could do; he could drive his new car. Sam decided he was going to do it. He had to make a start somewhere. He couldn't spend the rest of his life with his best friend sleeping beside him so that he could actually sleep for more than two hours in a row. Having made the decision to do it, and having slept for nearly ten hours straight, Sam felt better than he had for a long time. He got up and showered and ate his breakfast while he read the file, making notes occasionally in the margin. He wouldn't need to phone Josh. He was going to give him the file in person; he was going to drive to the White House.

* * *

Toby wasn't surprised to see Sam walking into the bullpen. He would have been more surprised if he had managed to stay home all day. He noticed that Sam was wearing jeans and a sweater though so he obviously didn't intend on staying. He was clutching a file under his arm and seemed to have quite a tight grasp on it. Toby wondered if it was the black sweater that was making Sam look so pale. Sam caught Toby's eyes and nodded at him while he went to get a coffee before entering Toby's office. When he came in Toby thought Sam looked even paler and the coffee in the cup was slurping dangerously close to the sides of the cup that was being held in a shaking hand.

"Hey," Sam greeted, "I just-"

"Are you okay?" Toby interrupted.

"Yeah, I bought this in but I managed to-"

"Come and sit down," Toby wasn't listening to Sam he was more intent on removing the cup and file and getting him to sit on the sofa.

"Thanks, but listen I decided this morning to-"

"I don't like your colour and you're shaking. Are we heading for another panic attack here?"

Before Sam could explain why he was in a state Josh appeared in the doorway, "Sam, what are you doing...hey you're shaking, what's wrong?"

Sam rolled his eyes as Toby and Josh sat on either side of him, "I'm fine...really...I drove. I drove my new car," he smiled at them as he finished speaking and Toby couldn't remember the last time Sam had.

"You drove! Oh that's the best...that's just great Sam," Josh beamed at him, "How did it go?"

"Well it was weird, like learning to drive again. I didn't try to go past where...I went the way you've been taking me. I had to stop a couple of times to... "Sam shrugged, "well you know."

"Oh please tell me you didn't puke on the seats," Josh groaned.

"No I...and thanks for your concern by the way...I managed to get out of the car in time." Toby reached for the coffee and handed it to Sam.

"The thing is- having got here I'm not altogether sure I can face going back. I'm glad I did it but I think that's all-"

"Don't worry about it, you've done great. I'll take you home and get a cab back," Toby picked up the file that he had taken from Sam and handed it to Sam, "Let me know when you're done tutoring Josh and we'll go."

Sam agreed and waited for Josh to lead the way to his office, "I just want to point out that I do not need tutoring. I asked Sam to clarify a few of the more complex points for me but I've already got a good grasp of this," Josh snatched the file from Sam as he spoke.

"When Congressman Reynolds meets with you what are you going to say when he asks you why changing the legislation will benefit married couples in his state but doesn't recognise one-parent families?"

"I'm going to tell him...I'm going to point out..." Josh faltered, "Okay I had a good grasp of something but maybe it wasn't this," He admitted. Sam followed him out of the office. Toby couldn't help but smile as he watched them leave; this was almost normal. This was almost like old times.


	9. Walking Wounded 9

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Josh hooted as he pulled up outside of Sam’s apartment and waited for him to come down.

“I’m picking up CJ at Toby’s place, did you get some sleep?” Josh asked as Sam climbed into the car.

“I wasn’t tired. After Toby left I just watched TV and read a bit.”

Toby had told Josh that Sam had been quiet when he had dropped him off earlier. Josh agreed that Sam’s exhilaration at having driven himself to work hadn’t lasted long.

“You still want to go out to eat, I mean if you’ve changed your mind I can phone and cancel,” Josh asked before starting the engine.

“No it’s fine, let’s just go,” Sam didn’t sound too convincing and he rubbed at his neck as he spoke.

When they arrived CJ and Toby were waiting at the bar, they were both drinking orange juice.

“Hey guys,” Toby said, “What are you having?”

“I’ll have a Mar-” Josh caught Toby’s expression, “I’ll have a mineral water thanks,” Josh tried to sound pleased with his choice but he had really been looking forward to a Martini.

“Sam?” Toby pulled out his wallet.

“I’ll have a Jack Daniels, no ice and a martini for Josh.”

Toby stared at Sam who returned the stare. Josh tensed as he looked at his friends facing each other off. Without breaking the stare Toby called to the bartender, “A Jack Daniels, no ice and a Martini please,” Josh visibly relaxed and CJ let out the breath she had been holding. Sam didn’t look triumphant just tired.

The atmosphere relaxed as they started to eat and Sam let CJ and Josh entertain him with some gossip from the Bullpen that they had found out by mistake, although Josh insisted it was because he was in the ‘gossip’ loop. Toby didn’t try to enforce an alcohol-free dinner again and as a result Sam was careful not to drink too much, although Sam’s idea of ‘too much’ had become a little blurred recently.

The alcohol did little to numb Sam’s throbbing head and shoulder and he shifted in his seat trying to find a comfortable position.

“You alright there Sam?” CJ asked as a loud sigh escaped his lips.

“Don’t give him any sympathy,” Josh told her.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She smiled expecting Josh to come out with some sarcastic comment.

“Because he’s not being a good boy and taking what the doctor ordered,” Sam’s head whipped up and he found Josh staring at him. He definitely wasn’t trying to be funny.

“Why aren’t you?” CJ asked her smile had disappeared.

“Yes, why aren’t you Sam?” Josh added, “Tell us why there’s an unopened prescription from the hospital in your bathroom, because I sure as hell can’t understand why you keep trying to cope with blinding headaches and neck pain when you’ve been given something to stop it.”

Sam didn’t answer but looked at Toby who was lighting a cigar, “In the absence of any explanation from Sam I would imagine the only reason he’s not taking his medication is to either piss off Mrs Bartlet or to make himself suffer. As he’s already ensured us that he’s not suicidal then he can’t be doing it to upset the First Lady so it must be for the other reason,” Toby blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling.

“Why would you...what makes you want to...God Sam why would you want to be in pain if you don’t have to be?” Josh kept his voice low but CJ could see he was close to loosing it.

Sam just shrugged, “It’s not too bad...it’s not much to have to live with. Maybe I des...” Sam stopped himself but Josh knew what he was going to say.

“Deserve it! You think you deserve to go around in pain...what sort of fucked up thinking is that?”

Sam stood up, “Can we go home now please?” Toby immediately stood, followed by CJ who was relieved that Sam wasn’t going to argue with Josh.

Josh continued to stare at Sam but knew this wasn’t the place to have the discussion. He stayed silent in the car as well only speaking to tell Sam he would drop him off first.

Josh pulled up behind Sam’s car and waited for him to get out. He heard the door open but looked in his side mirror when he didn’t hear it close. Sam was walking towards his car, he stood in front of it for a few seconds and then slammed his fist down on the hood. Josh jumped out of his car and ran over to Sam. It wasn’t until he was up close that he realized every single window had been smashed in and the paintwork scratched. Toby and CJ followed and Josh heard Toby curse as he walked past him and around the other side of the car. CJ jumped as he kicked the rear door to force the loose glass out of the frame it hung precariously from. The four stood and listened as the remnants of glass fell to the ground.

Sam’s sudden outburst made CJ jump again, “You had to keep pushing. I told you I didn’t want a car, damn it,” Sam kicked at the car and more glass splintered to the ground, “He’ll think I don’t care...that I’m just back to-“

“Hold on,” Josh stopped him, “Who’s ‘he’?”

“I meant people, people will think that I-”

Josh interrupted him again, “You know who did this don’t you.”

“Oh come on,” this time Toby cut in, “This isn’t related to the accident it’s a random act of vandalism nothing else.”

“This isn’t random,” Josh started walking around the car, “’Random’ is a broken wing-mirror, ‘random’ is a slashed tyre. Someone has stood here and smashed every single pane of glass, which can’t have been easy because it’s shatter-proof and reinforced.”

“Well it’s good to hear you are still able to quote the buyers’ guide in times of stress, Volks Wagon would be impressed.”

“This isn’t funny Toby, I’m saying-”

“I know what you’re saying,” Toby turned to Sam, “Do you know who did this?”

“Of course not,” Sam replied. He turned and started to walk towards the stoop. Josh passed him on the way up and whispered, “You’re lying,” quietly enough so only Sam would hear it.

Once inside the apartment, CJ and Josh grabbed some trash-bags, tape and a brush and went back down to start clearing up the mess. Sam called to Toby that he was going to help and when he got no reply he went into the kitchen were Toby was opening up Sam’s prescription and reading the leaflet.

“You’re an idiot,” he said as he handed two tablets and a glass of water to Sam.

Sam lifted the pills to his mouth and then paused, “These are painkillers. I mean you’re not trying to rid the human gene-pool of idiots are you?”

“Just take the damn pills Sam,” ordered Toby. He took the glass from Sam and told him to go to bed ignoring his protests that he should go and help with the car. A defiant Sam, an angry Josh and broken glass was a recipe for disaster that Toby decided was best avoided.

He went downstairs and watched as CJ placed the last strip of tape across the window just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

“You see I’m not just a press secretary. The weather waits for me. The rain clouds do my bidding,” CJ declared.

“Hey Zeus,” Toby called to Josh, “Are you ready to take me and the rain God home?”

Josh nodded and walked over to his car. He started the engine then switched it off, “You know I should go back up and-”

“No you shouldn’t, Sam’s asleep. Talk tomorrow.”

Sam lay awake and listened to the sound of Josh’s car pulling away. He went over to the window and looked out at the street below. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Stephen Walsh who had damaged his car, just as there was no doubt that the day when he would have to face him was drawing ever closer.

* * *

"This...mistake?" Sam suggested.

"No!" Toby quickly replied.

"This...error?"

"Sam! We're trying to admit to that without actually saying the word."

"Okay...this...oversight? Blunder? Lapse? Lapse!"

"This lapse has caused an unfortunate- wait a minute, lapse in what?"

"Lapse in not getting caught making mistakes," Sam suggested.

"Shut up and stop spinning you're making my dizzy."

“Political spinning or chair spinning?” Sam asked.  
  


“Chair spinning.” 

  
"I think you'll find it's my extensive vocabulary and command of the english language that's making you dizzy Toby,” Sam got up and walked out to the Bullpen. He returned with a cup of coffee and listened as Toby read out the paragraph that was an apology without actually saying the word.

Ginger poked her head around the door, “Sam there’s a call for you but I didn’t know if you’d want to take it.”

“It’s okay we’re done. Who is it?”

“Claire Walsh’s mother.”

Sam placed his cup down and then both on his hands on the desk and stood with his head facing down.

“Sam?” Ginger didn’t think she had ever heard Toby speak so softly before. Sam shook his head and Toby stood up, “Put it through to my office,” he said as he walked out of Sam’s.

Toby watched Sam pacing up and down as he waited for the call to be put through. Suddenly Sam spun around and walked out of his office. He stood for a moment before turning to the left, changed his mind and then walked off to the right. Toby lost sight of him as a nervous Mrs Walsh began to speak.

Josh was reading at his desk. Sam stood in the doorway until he saw him, “Hey Sam,” Josh said before he shouted, “Donna,” as she appeared in the doorway Josh carried on, “Over three hundred teachers have already bemoaned their lack of ‘looks’?”

“Books Josh, it says books,” Donna explained.

“Well that’s good because I don’t think implementing legislation against ugly teachers would be a smart move right now,” Donna walked behind Josh’s desk and grabbed the papers from his hand, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to type this up so that I don’t have to listen to another thinly veiled criticism of my penmanship.”

“Penmanship? What are you my scribe? You know typewriters and word processors have been invented right?”

Donna hit Josh on the head with the papers as she passed him, “I’m pretty sure scribes aren’t supposed to do that,” he mused as he watched her retreating form.

With no work to do Josh gave his full attention to Sam. Neither of them had mentioned what was said the night that Sam’s car was vandalised. Josh still thought that Sam was hiding something but he also thought he would say something if he seriously thought somebody was out to harm him. Sam was just relieved that Josh hadn’t mentioned what had happened again. They had conversed with single words for a few days until the words had become conversation, the conversation had become banter and then they were back to normal. He had a feeling Sam hadn’t just come here for a break so he waited to see what he would say.

“So anyway,” Sam began, “Claire Walsh’s mother phoned.”

Josh sat bolt upright, “What did she want?”

“I don’t know Toby took the call. So I was thinking about hiding somewhere.”

Josh looked out through the open doorway and listened to the sound of Donna’s fingers furiously tapping at the keyboard, “Yeah, hiding could be a good call,” he agreed.

“Mess?”

“Okay but don’t have a panic attack this time because that’s pretty conspicuous you know,” Josh waited for Sam to walk out of the office and followed behind him. Shielded by Sam Josh called to Donna, “Me and Sam are just going to check out the stationary cupboard to make sure we haven’t run out of sealing wax.”

Donna ignored him and carried on typing. A few moments later she answered the phone and told Toby that Sam had been here but he had gone off somewhere with Josh. Considering Sam and Josh were effectively playing hooky somewhere in the White House she thought Toby sounded very calm about her lack of knowledge of his presence. In fact, she thought he sounded relieved.

* * *

Eventually Sam and Josh realized they had to go and face Donna and Toby. Josh loitered in Sam’s office for a while on the pretence of summoning his courage but really he wanted to be around when Toby told Sam what Mrs Walsh had said. It turned out to be a different phone call that Sam had to deal with first. Ginger appeared and passing him a slip of paper explained that he was to phone an Officer Brooks at the 14th Precinct. Josh sat down as Sam dialled the number.

“I’m Sam Seaborn returning a call from Officer Brooks,” Sam and Josh exchanged glances both of them mystified as to why the police would want to speak to Sam. “Hello...yes...I see...a gang- are you sure...it’s just I thought- it doesn’t matter...yes well that’s good news thank you for keeping me informed,” Sam replaced the receiver and sat staring at it until Josh interrupted his reverie.

“Well?”

“They’ve caught the people who trashed my car. It was a couple of gangs having some sort of window breaking competition.”

“Well that’s good,” Josh noticed Sam’s frown, “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah...I’ve got to go see Toby now,” Sam walked towards the door but found his way blocked by Josh.

“Wait a minute, you really did think you knew who it was,” Josh said.

“I told you I didn’t. Can I get by please?” Sam avoided looking at Josh.

“But what I don’t understand is why you’re disappointed that it wasn’t who you thought,” Josh had both his hands on either side of the doorframe. Sam stood close to him but made no attempt to push past him, “Unless...”

“Josh!” Sam pleaded.

“Unless you wanted it to be who you...Jesus Sam, why don’t you just hang a sign around your neck, ‘Please feel free to trash my car, break into my house and generally treat me like shit because I deserve it’,” Josh’s voice had risen until he was shouting and he slammed his fist against the door as he spat out the words ‘deserve it’.

The next thing Sam knew, Josh was being pushed back into his office by an extremely angry Toby who slammed the door shut behind him and began a mock introduction, “Maybe you haven’t met,” he pointed at Sam, “Sam Seaborn recently traumatised, struggling to deal with the experience,” he then pointed to Josh and shouted, “Nutcase,” pointing to Sam again he continued, “Sam Seaborn who needs our patience and understanding,” his hand flew towards Josh, “Nutcase,” Josh held his hands up as Toby began another description of Sam.

“Okay, okay I’ve got the message,” he looked directly at Sam, “I’m sorry but I am so sick of watching you moping around waiting for the hand of justice to reach down and take a swipe at you.”

Sam fell heavily into his chair. He rubbed at his eyes and then looked up, “First- I don’t mope. Second- you know what? Tough, if you don’t like watching then look away because I am doing the best I can and I really don’t need to be worrying about how you’re coping as well. And finally- if Toby doesn’t tell me soon what Mrs Walsh wanted I think we might discover that the puking phase isn’t over yet.”

Toby glanced at Josh, realized he wasn’t leaving and began, “She wants to talk to you, and I think you should, but I told her you might want to wait a while. She doesn’t blame you and she wants you to know that. I think she will get some sort of closure from talking to you about it. She was...emotional, that’s why I think you should wait a while before contacting her. She just wants to talk to you Sam that’s all.”

Sam stood up and walked towards the window, “There’s something else. Tell me,”

Toby paused before answering, “She’s worried about her son. He’s not coping very well with what has happened. She wanted to know if he’d tried to contact you,” Sam didn’t answer, “Has he?”

“No, he hasn’t tried to contact me,” Sam thought about the times he had seen Stephen outside his home. He was certain he had seen him at least five times but then again he was certain it was Stephen who had smashed his windows.

Sam mumbled something but Toby and Josh couldn’t make out what he’d said. He was still facing the window and Josh had to ask him twice to repeat it.

“I said I’m really tired will someone take me home please.”

“Sure, I’ll just grab my bag,” Josh said, he shot a puzzled glance at Toby who shrugged in response. He had expected Sam to want to know every detail of the telephone call. He had also hoped that Sam would be relieved to hear that Claire’s mother held no ill-will towards him but, like Josh had after the call to the police, Toby thought Sam just seemed disappointed.

* * *

Toby watched as Sam walked into the Bullpen. He hadn’t appreciated Sam’s cheery greeting, quoting whatever bizarre thought or quirky fact he had been musing on that particular morning, until it was gone. Recently Sam’s entrance consisted of keeping his head down and avoiding everyone, grabbing a coffee and then going into the office shutting the door behind him. Toby sighed as he picked up some notes he had written and knocked on Sam’s door.

“You look like crap,” Toby stated bluntly. Sam didn’t respond, in fact Sam didn’t respond to much anymore. After the call from Claire’s mother he had become even more withdrawn. He made less of an effort to hide his drinking and on a couple of occasions had turned up late looking like he hadn’t even been home. He had phoned in sick numerous times as well, enough times for Leo to become suspicious. Toby knew it was only a matter of time before he pulled him to one side and told him to get Sam straightened out. All of this Toby could deal with, but for the past few days Sam had begun to fail in his work and Toby couldn’t deal with that.

Toby held up his notes and waved them in front of Sam, “Here I did some notes for your meeting with Linch.”

“Why? I don’t need that I’ve done my own prep...why did you do that?”

Toby leaned over the desk and nearer to Sam, “Because as I stated before, you look like crap and I don’t think while you were ordering your sixth scotch, or whatever the hell it is you drown in, you where spending too much time preparing for your meeting with Congressman Linch.”

Sam stood up suddenly, he recovered quickly from a momentary loss of balance and then stormed over to his briefcase in which he rummaged until he had found what he was looking for.

“This,” he waved it in front of Toby mimicking how Toby had waved his notes at him, “This is my preparation, do you think I’d just walk into a meeting Larch and not be prepared?”

“Linch,” Toby corrected.

Sam’s stomach lurched. A few weeks ago he would have replied, ‘Linch the Congressman not Larch Chairman of Amalgamated Pharmacies?’ He would have strung Toby along and Toby would have ignored it, both of them knowing full well that Sam was more than prepared for both meetings. But this wasn’t a few weeks ago and Sam wasn’t prepared. He didn’t even have a clue what he was meant to be discussing with the Congressman. He picked up his coffee and walked past Toby who grabbed his arm before he could get to the door.

“Linch,” He reiterated.

“Yeah...Linch, I know,” he shrugged Toby off and made his way to the Mural room where he found the congressman waiting for him.

* * *

Toby scratched his head and ignored CJ and Josh who were both staring at him.

“Let’s just wait and see what Ginger says,” he decided. They didn’t have to wait long; Ginger knocked once and then entered Toby’s office shutting the door behind her.

“They’re both standing up and Linch just said...well shouted really, ‘Is there anything about central funding that you do know Mr Seaborn?’.”

“And Sam replied?” Toby asked impatiently.

“Sam said, ‘There’s very little I know about central funding Congressman- that’s probably why they asked me to meet with you in the first place’.”

“Toby,” Josh cautioned.

“I know,” Toby sighed.

“You’ve got to get him out of that meeting,” CJ said.

“Yeah, Ginger go in and tell Sam I can’t find the Gotham file,” he noticed Josh and CJ’s puzzled expressions, “It’s our code for ‘get out and don’t say another word’,” he explained.

“You have a code?” Josh asked, “Do you have codes for other things?”

“Just a few...some we’ve never used yet,”

“Yeah- like what?” Josh was genuinely intrigued.

“Well threre’s ‘What’s that incessant babbling’,”

“What’s that code for?” Josh sat forward.

“Please kill Josh this instant,”

Josh opened his mouth as if to reply and then thought better of it. The three waited in silence for Ginger and hopefully Sam to return. Josh moved closer to CJ, “Do you and Carol have codes?”

Before she could answer Ginger burst into the office, “Toby you better come, Linch just stormed out of the Mural room and into Leo’s office.”

“Oh shit,” Josh muttered, “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s in with Leo too. He stormed out after him and stormed into Leo’s office,” She explained.

“I hope they’ve got their galoshes, sounds like there’s a lot of storming going on,” CJ quipped as she followed Toby out of the office.

“That’s going to be my code- ‘Get your galoshes’. It could be for emergencies or general water incidents,” Josh said as he rushed after them.


	10. Walking Wounded 10

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

When they got to Leo’s office Sam was pacing outside and Margaret looked like she hoped that if she carried on typing and staring fixedly at the monitor Sam, Linch and Leo would all disappear.

“What happened?” Toby asked.

Sam continued to pace, “What happened- Congressman Linch decided that his time was being wasted. Congressman Linch decided he would be better off discussing his proposals with an intern. Congressman Linch is a-”

“That’s enough,” Toby shouted and stopped Sam in his tracks. “You went into this meeting and you didn’t have a clue what it was about. I had a feeling you weren’t prepared. I should have stopped you,” Toby turned and walked away from Sam. When he turned to face him he hadn’t managed to calm down, “Why did you go ahead with something which you knew...” CJ and Josh watched Toby as he tried again unsuccessfully to calm down, “Give me one good reason why Leo shouldn’t tell you to take a hike.”

 “I can’t,” Suddenly Sam became animated, “In fact I think he should- my writing stinks, you’ve been covering for me for weeks, I come in late go home early, I haven’t the slightest clue what CJ told the press today let alone last week, I’m unable to focus, I can’t even prep for what should have been a straightforward meeting and how a picture of me puking in an alley or falling off a bar stool hasn’t graced the covers of the national press yet is beyond me,” Sam started walking towards the closed door of Leo’s office. Toby stepped in front of him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to go give Leo my reasons why he should tell me to take a hike- they’re pretty cogent don’t you think?” Sam tried to step around Toby but he blocked his way again.

“Go to my office,” Margaret had stopped typing and sat staring at the little dance the two men were performing.

“You go to your office,” Sam answered indignantly. Toby blocked his way again, “Toby!” Sam tried to push past him but Toby grabbed his arm and Sam found himself being pulled back.

Josh called out Sam’s name as he watched Sam raise him arm. It was not a cry of warning or admonishment but of disbelief. The sight of Sam standing inches from Toby his fist clenched and raised but frozen in mid air shocked CJ and Margaret too. Sam didn’t move but stood staring at Toby who in turn was staring fixedly at Sam. Toby watched as Sam’s expression turned from anger to confusion and finally horror at the realization of what he was doing. Sam unclenched his fist and his hand hung loosely in the air until he lowered it to his head. He closed his eyes and still Toby held onto him.

“Go to my office,” Toby repeated this time in a softer voice. Sam opened his eyes as Toby released his hold of him. He walked past CJ and Josh. Josh made to follow him but was stopped by Toby. The door to Leo’s office opened and the three of them watched as Leo and Congressman Linch started a round of hand-shaking and back slapping that paid testament to Leo’s diplomatic skills. As Linch disappeared Leo’s smile faded and he gestured towards his office.

“Would you step into my office,” he began quietly, “That means you, you and oh yes you,” his voice rose as he pointed in turn to CJ, Toby and Josh. He walked into his office and slammed the door, “Why did I just have to spend ten minutes placating and apologising to a man who I can’t stand, about his treatment in a meeting that should have been a matter of formality?”

“Could it have something to do with the fact that Sam thought he was going to a meeting with Larch?” Toby offered quietly.

“Well yeah I don’t think that helped. And I don’t think the Congressman was particularly impressed when Sam disclosed that information to him or proceeded to suggest that if Linch pretended he was Larch then he would be really impressed with what Sam had to say.”

CJ couldn’t help a snort of laughter escaping, “I’m sorry...did he go for it?”

“No CJ he didn’t ‘go for it’,” Leo replied as he sighed and sat down behind his desk. “Where is he now?”

“In my office,”

“Give him time to calm down then I want to see him. I tell you what- let’s have a party, why don’t you all come back in half an hour and we’ll sort out this mess once and for all.”

“Mess? I thought the situation with Linch was resolved?” Toby asked.

“It is- by mess I was referring to Sam,” Leo explained, he watched as Toby’s face showed his silent agreement that mess was indeed a very good adjective for Sam at the moment.

“Hey do I need to go grab something to eat or will you be laying on a buffet?” Josh asked, “Because if you’re holding a party you really should provide some sort of-”

Josh stopped abruptly as Leo slammed his hand on the desk, “From now on before you speak to me you ask yourself these questions; is what I’m about to say something that Leo needs to know? Will it be of any interest or use to him? Would my life be lengthened if I decide not to say whatever wisecrack comment is currently running through my juvenile mind?”

“Okay...is that just for work related subjects or general conversation?” Josh was pushed firmly from Leo’s office by CJ. Leo watched as Toby exited behind them. He didn’t know what he was going to do when they met again with Sam but something needed to be done. He knew Toby and CJ were worried and no matter how Josh seemed on the surface he knew it was killing him that he couldn’t help his friend. Leo stood and walked towards the Oval Office. He needed some advice from someone who had once forced an idiot to get help. He needed to ask Jed how he had known what to do when Leo had been the one that needed help.

When Toby arrived back at his office he didn’t think much of the fact that Sam wasn’t in his. He supposed that he had gone to the Mess or even outside to get some air. When Ginger appeared at his door with a worried look on her face, he knew that both theories were about to be proved wrong.

“Sam said to tell you...well he didn’t say to tell you anything actually but he’s gone. He just came bursting into his office, grabbed his coat and nearly knocked me flying in his haste to get out of here. I asked him where he was going and he called back that he was sick and was going home.”

“This is not good Ginger,” Toby wagged his finger at Ginger.

“No I didn’t think it was.”

“It’s not good at all,” Toby rubbed at his forehead, “Not good at all,” he repeated.

Ginger stood by the side of his desk waiting for Toby to start looking like he knew what to do. She didn’t have to wait long, “Go get Josh,” he told her, “Tell him to bring his galoshes,” he added as an afterthought.

* * *

Sam sat in the middle of his living room surrounded by newspapers. He knew that somewhere he had read an article about Stephen Walsh and it had mentioned where he worked. He picked up another paper, knocking over his glass of bourbon in the process. He reached for the open bottle and started to drink from that instead. He continued to browse the pages randomly until eventually he found what he was looking for. He skimmed the page, often stopping to rub at his eyes too drunk to appreciate that the blurred vision was due more to alcohol than tiredness. He placed his finger below the name of the advertising firm that Stephen Walsh worked for. He said it out loud three times and then stood up on shaky legs dropping the bottle on the floor as he did so. He grabbed his keys and wallet and left his apartment ignoring the phone that had started to ring. A slow trickle of bourbon left the bottle and made a swirling journey across the picture of Stephen Walsh.

* * *

“What did he say?” Josh had been waiting impatiently for Toby to come back from Leo’s office for ten minutes.

“He wasn’t pleased,” Toby answered, “you know as in absolutely livid. I did point out that we could hardly handcuff Sam to his desk but he seemed to think that sounded like a pretty good idea so...” Toby continued to lean against the doorjamb, “Try his cell again,” he suggested.

Josh had tried contacting Sam before Toby had gone to talk with Leo but with no luck. He had listened to the ring tones of his home phone and cell so often that he was taken by surprise when he suddenly heard Sam’s voice, “Ssh Josh, I’m on a stakeout,” Sam whispered.

Josh had put Sam on speaker phone and on hearing Sam’s words Toby swung his hand to his forehead dramatically and closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to come and get you?” Josh asked.

“No...I’ve got to do this first...”

“Hey Man From Uncle,” Toby shouted, “Get your ass back to HQ.”

Sam didn’t reply. There was a loud sigh and then, “Just let me do this Josh...then you can come and get me.”

“Where are you and what do you have to do?” Josh asked calmly.

“I’m...ah...I see what you’re trying...a good agent never reveals his location...I’ll phone you I just...I have to do this Josh,” Sam hung up and left Josh staring at the buzzing receiver.

Sam had been sitting in the bar opposite where Stephen Walsh worked for a number of hours. He had been drinking and watching the revolving doors but had been unaware that he too was being watched. As Sam stood up on finally seeing Stephen exit the building, a man sitting on the other side of the room reached for his cell phone.

* * *

Donna pushed the door to Josh’s office and found her way blocked by something. She pushed against it harder, “Hold on!” Josh shouted to her. She heard the sound of something being dragged out of the way and then Josh pulled the door open. He was red and sweating slightly. As Donna surveyed the room she could see the reason why; the desk usually opposite the door had been placed to the left of the room and a cabinet stood abandoned in the middle. She looked to Josh for an explanation.

“This isn’t a Feng Shui thing, I just wanted a change. I was going to put the cabinet by the window. It worked in my head...when I planned it...but in actual real-life dimensions it seems to be a bit bigger.”

“Bigger than it was in your head?” Donna clarified.

Josh nodded, “Yeah and heavier- it’s a lot heavier than it was when I was moving it in my head.”

Donna started picking up stray items of stationary that had fallen off the desk during its journey, “The last time you rearranged your office was when the President told you he had MS.”

Josh understood what Donna was implying but he didn’t want to tell her that he was worried sick about Sam or that Toby and he had just had an argument that had ended in Toby persuading him that driving around Washington looking for Sam was not an option. He started to deny that anything was wrong when the sound of the phone ringing interrupted him. Josh started to move automatically towards his desk before realizing that the phone was no longer there. He scanned the room but couldn’t see it.

“It’s definitely coming from over there,” Josh muttered as he walked over towards where his desk used to be. Donna meanwhile was on her hands and knees following the lead from the phone-point on the wall. Josh reached down and tried to peer in the space between the edge of the cabinet and the wall, convinced that the phone was on the other side he hurried around and crouched down again. He spotted the phone on the floor behind his chair. He crawled towards, reaching it from his end as Donna finished trailing along the lead from hers. The inevitable clash of heads caused both of them to cry out. Donna grabbed the receiver, “Josh Lyman,” she answered in a surprisingly unperturbed voice. She held her hand over the receiver and told Josh it was Matt Skinner and that he needed to talk to Josh about Sam.

Josh immediately took the receiver from her, picked up the phone and began to pace, “Hey Matt what’s the problem?”

“Josh, it’s probably nothing. I’m been sitting here waiting for Fowler who I’m meeting for lunch, he’s late as usual; anyway the thing is I noticed Sam Seaborn. I was going to go over but he looked...Josh he’s pretty drunk. I didn’t realize at first. He just left, but he hasn’t gone anywhere he’s just standing outside of the building. I think you should get down here Josh he looks...vulnerable.”

Josh scribbled down the name of the bar as he thanked Matt who told Josh that he would keep watching Sam, but once Fowler arrived he would be stuck. Josh assured him he would be there before that and hung up. He stood in the middle of his office for a few seconds holding the phone in both hands. Donna took it from him and he grabbed his coat and keys, “If I don’t tell you where I’m going you won’t have to lie to Toby. I’ve got my cell if you need me,” With that he left his office, and Donna standing in the middle of it still holding the phone.

* * *

Gerry Fowler passed Sam, as he walked towards the entrance to the bar, unaware of the importance of the dishevelled man to his dining companion. Matt smiled and greeted him and positioned himself so that he could talk to Fowler and continue to watch Sam.

Sam was staring at Stephen Walsh who, for the past five minutes, had been standing on the sidewalk talking to his colleagues who had exited the building with him. A woman’s child stepped into the road near Sam. A taxi driver hooted his horn furiously as he swerved out of the way, the sound causing Stephen to glance over. He noticed Sam but turned back to his friends before suddenly spinning his head back in Sam’s direction. The two men stared at each other. Stephen’s colleagues were so involved in their conversation that they didn’t notice him walk away until he was halfway across the road. They watched intrigued as Stephen and Sam came face to face. Neither man moved or spoke. People passing on the sidewalk stepped into the road to avoid them; the tension between the two men being so great it seemed to permeate the space around them.

Stephen took a step towards Sam. He had a sudden urge to touch him, unable to believe at first that the man whose image had been the focus of so much hatred was standing in front of him. He had seen enough pictures of Sam sober and heard enough rumours of his drinking to know that Sam was drunk now. He had thought that his feelings of anger and hatred were diminishing but on seeing Sam he felt overwhelmed by them again.

“And I thought you only got drunk in the morning,” he sneered.

“No it’s pretty much an all day thing,” Sam replied. He could see the disgust in Stephen’s eyes and it wasn’t what he had wanted. He wanted Stephen to hate him. He wanted him to vindicate Sam’s self hatred. He wanted him to justify his guilt and in so doing end its haunting of him.

“You were drunk you bastard...everyone told me, convinced me, that I was wrong but I wasn’t. You were drunk and you covered it up.”

All Sam had to do was explain that he had meant he got drunk all the time now. That he hadn’t drunk like this before, that Stephen was wrong. But he didn’t. He didn’t say a word; he let Stephen believe the worst of him because it didn’t matter why he blamed him just so long as he did. His reward came in the shape of Stephen’s fist which landed squarely on Sam’s jaw and sent him hurtling to the ground. Stephen yanked Sam to his knees by his lapels. He hit him again and the force sent him down to the ground for a second time. He was too caught up in the release of his pent up rage to register that Sam was not fighting back. He was allowing Stephen to hit him, drag him up and strike him again and again. Stephen’s friends had watched in disbelief as the normally placid man had followed his fourth punch with a vicious kick to the downed man’s stomach.

Matt Skinner peered over his companion’s shoulder and was relieved to see the space where Sam had stood was now empty. The next time he glanced up he was afforded a view of quite a different scene. He stood up suddenly and mumbled a quick apology to Fowler as he walked hastily out of the bar.

He arrived outside in time to see Sam taking another punch as two of Stephen’s friends tried to haul him off Sam. Matt watched as the men pulled him away, clearly shocked by their friend’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

Matt walked towards Sam and knelt down beside him. He placed one hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?" he asked but the answer came from behind him.

"Well I've had better days," Josh replied as he knelt down next to Sam. He shook him to make sure he was conscious and then started to hoist him up.

“He didn’t fight back,” Matt explained, “He just stood there and took it- well lay there and took it.”

Josh nodded towards his car, his main priority at the moment being to get Sam into his car and out of sight. Together they half carried, half dragged Sam to the car that Josh had managed to park in an alley.

“I better get back. Fowler will be...”

“Yeah, listen- thanks for...getting involved. I’ll give you a ring,” Josh shook Matt’s hand and then turned his attention back to Sam who was trying to unfasten the seatbelt, “What do you think you’re doing? We’re going.”

“I have to tell him...I let him think I was drunk,” Sam was still struggling to free himself.

“You _are_ drunk,” Josh pointed out.

The struggle with the defiant seatbelt and Josh’s misunderstanding caused Sam to snap, “That morning he thinks I was drunk then. If I could just get this damn drunk-proof seatbelt undone...” Sam trailed off the pain flaring through his ribs caused by his raised voice silencing him.

Josh cursed and then got out of the car and walked towards Stephen who sat surrounded by his friends. One of them saw Josh approaching and hurried towards him, “I don’t know what you want but you’re not talking to him.”

“I don’t want to talk to him. Listen, Sam said something about letting Stephen think he was drunk the morning of the accident. He wasn’t.”

“I know- Stephen knows really, he just must have lost it. I’ve known him for twelve years and I don’t think I’ve seen him raise his voice let alone his fist.”

“Well he must have been storing it up because he’s done a pretty good job on Sam.”

“You weren’t here. Stephen should have stopped, he was out of control, but your friend didn’t even try to defend himself he just took blow after blow without any-”

“I know, I know,” Josh interrupted him. He didn’t particularly want to listen to a description of Sam’s submission and he certainly didn’t want to get involved in a discussion of whose friend was suffering the most. Josh saw Stephen being led back to where he worked by his friends. He looked back at Stephen’s friend and found him staring at Sam. A flicker of understanding crossed between the two men; both there because of their best friend. Wordlessly they shook hands and parted. Josh watched as he crossed the road and hurried over to Stephen. Josh walked just as quickly back to his car where Sam was waiting for him. He had given up struggling with the seat belt and was sitting back in his seat, his eyes closed.


	11. Walking Wounded 11

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

“No Josh I don’t want this,” Sam had stayed quiet for most of the journey. He’d had his eyes closed when Josh had swung off the road that led to his house and hadn’t opened them until Josh was pulling up in the hospital’s parking lot.

“Your ‘wants’ sort of lose any credibility when you’re willing to sit in a bar waiting for someone who you ‘want’ to beat you to a pulp,” Josh explained as he unfastened his and Sam’s seatbelts. He got out of the car and seeing that Sam hadn’t followed him walked around to his side and opened the door, “Get out!”

The force of Josh’s voice made Sam jump and sensing Josh was near to breaking point he slowly climbed out of his seat trying not to let the pain that the movement caused show.

* * *

Sam lay on his bed his hands cradling his head as he stared at the ceiling. The bag of medication that the doctor had given him sat on the bedside table. He ran his hand tentatively over his ribs one of which, the doctor had informed him, was broken. He had been sleeping and didn’t know if Josh was still in his apartment or not. He closed his eyes and decided he would get up in a few more minutes. He heard the low murmur of the television coming from the living room which confirmed that Josh hadn’t left then he fell asleep again.

When he woke for the second time it was to a sound that he couldn’t place. There was a pattern to it; the sound of liquid being poured, a chink of glass and then water running down the sink. He listened as the process was repeated and his eyes snapped opened as he worked out what the sounds where.

Josh didn’t notice Sam arrive in the kitchen; he was intent on his work of emptying the collection of bottles that he had found in the apartment.

“Was prohibition reinstated while I was asleep?” Sam asked his voice dangerously low.

At the sound of it Josh dropped the bottle he was holding spilling its contents across the work surface. He recovered his composure quickly though and turned to face Sam, “I’ve been sitting here while you’ve been sleeping and I’ve been trying to figure out what I can do. I went through all sorts of strategies...I even drew a flow chart...and the thing is it all led back to drink, all my plans, all my thoughts all the arrows they all led back to drink. You can’t face things so you drink but then you can’t see anything...you can’t get anything straight because you’re drinking. So the answer is pretty simple- remove drink from the equation and then deal with what’s left.”

“You drew a flow-chart?” Sam’s tone was incredulous, “I’m not a...a...campaign. You can’t strategize me and I’ll tell you something else...” Sam was faltering.

“What?” Josh asked and the question threw Sam. He spoke as if there was absolutely nothing that Sam could tell him that he didn’t already know about the situation.

“I’m...It’s...I don’t need you telling me what’s best for me. I don’t need Toby and his fumbling sympathy, I don’t need Leo’s lectures, I don’t need Bartlet’s drinking trivia and I don’t need YOU!” Sam swayed as the pain in his ribs and the affects of the medication hit him.

Josh ignored it, “Well what do you need Sam? A drink- is that what you need. Yeah to hell with it let’s have a drink,” Josh grabbed one of the bottles that had yet to be emptied, unscrewed the lid, took a swig from it and handed it to Sam.

Sam stared at the bottle. Josh thrust it forward, “Go ahead, it might be just what you need.”

Sam raised his hand and Josh wondered what his next move would be if Sam took it and started to drink he didn’t have to deal with that though because Sam suddenly swiped at the bottle knocking it out of Josh’s hand and hurtling it against the fridge. The act seemed to drain Sam of all his energy and he slumped against the wall and started to slide down it, his actions in time with the scotch that still dripped slowly down from the spot where the bottle had landed.

“I thought it would end if I let him...I was going to say punish me but that sounds...”

”Pervy?” Josh offered as he slumped down next to Sam.

Sam made a noise that was partly a sob and partly a laugh, “Yeah pervy. I thought if someone just agreed with me, you know, didn’t try to tell me I was wrong to feel guilty I would be able to- I don’t know, start to...” Sam shrugged helplessly.

“Start to move on,” Josh supplied, “I’ve had counseling I know the lingo. You could move on and have-”

“Don’t say closure,” Sam warned as another sob-laugh escaped him and he winced, “God I need a drink,” Sam admitted and this time the sound was definitely a laugh and the laughter remained even though tears were coursing down his face and Josh was holding him and he didn’t let go.

* * *

Sam woke and again he was trying to determine if Josh was still there. This time his pondering was made easier by the sound of Josh’s voice drifting into his room.

“He’s asleep...yeah every last one, well Sam actually emptied the last one but that’s another story...a broken rib. Cuts, bruises...he’s taken them I...Toby he’s taken them...yeah I’m going to stay...we’ll just take it easy...why would I need to do that? He’s not going to start getting the DTs or anything he’s just...alright I’ll phone if that happens...alright...it’s fine, we’ll be fine...okay...where are you going to be? Okay I’ll speak to you later,” Josh hung up and having heard sounds of movement from Sam’s room went into the kitchen to make some fresh coffee.

Josh was right, Sam was fine. He was fine when they were eating breakfast, he was fine when they were drinking coffee and reading the papers. He was fine as they watched television and when they ordered pizza later in the evening. He went to bed fine and he woke up fine. It wasn’t until the early evening of the next day that he began to feel quite not so fine.

They had just finished eating when Josh noticed that Sam had started to look uncomfortable, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just a bit hot aren’t you hot?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Josh lied, “I’ll turn down the heating.

They carried on watching the television but neither man was really concentrating on the action hero who was struggling valiantly before them.

“Where did you order the pizza from?” Sam suddenly asked.

“I don’t know I grabbed one of the menus from the side,” Josh thought Sam looked pale now.

“Jesus I feel really nauseas,” Sam got up and headed for the kitchen. He returned to the room carrying a glass of water and slumped back on the chair. He took a few sips and carried on watching the hero who was now dangling from a helicopter.

“That’s a stuntman. He didn’t do any of the stunts apart from the-” Josh never got to tell Sam what the stunt was as he was interrupted by Sam moaning and running off to the bathroom. Josh stood outside and waited for him to finish. When it became apparent that Sam wasn’t going to finish anytime soon, Josh picked up the glass of water and followed him into the bathroom. He was confronted by a headless Sam frantically trying to remove his tangled sweatshirt. He stopped moving when he felt Josh’s hands grab at the material and allowed him to pull it off. As soon as he was free Sam lurched towards the toilet bowl again.

“That would have been...unpleasant,” Sam muttered as he lay back against the bath.

“Well yeah,” Josh stood over him.

“I’m hot could you open the window or something?”

Josh felt the heat still radiating from the sweatshirt, “You’re more than hot,” he said. He felt Sam’s forehead, “I think you should go and lie down.”

“I am lying down,” Sam was indeed flat-out on the floor and didn’t seem inclined to move, “Just open the window and let me lie here for a while.”

Josh did as he asked and left him alone. He went into the kitchen to phone Toby and tell him what was going on.

“I’m coming over,” Toby interrupted as soon as Josh began to explain what was happening.

“There’s no need. He’ll be asleep in a minute...when he’s managed to get up off the bathroom floor,” Josh peered into the bathroom at Sam’s prone form.

“I’m coming over,” Toby repeated and hung up.

When he arrived Josh was making yet another cup of coffee and Sam was asleep.

“How is he?” he asked as he slung his coat over the back of the sofa.

“Sick...should we call...I mean this is just normal isn’t it.”

“I told you if he stopped after weeks of heavy drinking he’d be ill like this. It’s not serious he’s not going to start hallucinating or anything,” Toby assured him.

“Josh, turn the heating up again. It’s really cold now.”

Toby swung around at the sound of Sam’s shaky voice. He stood in the doorway a comforter wrapped around him and seemed not to notice Toby’s presence.

“Go back to bed,” Toby ordered and to his surprise Sam immediately turned around and went back to his bedroom. It was another hour before he appeared again. This time he walked over to the sofa and sat down heavily pulling the comforter around him.

“I just had the weirdest dream, I was in the oval office but it was a ship, I could see the ocean outside and the agents were walking on the deck. There was this giant bell where the President’s desk is and I was meant to ring it because there was this wave headed for the ship it was blocking out the sunlight as it came towards us. The agents couldn’t see it and I couldn’t get the bell to sound it was all muffled there was something stopping it. I couldn’t do it,” Sam stared at the carpet waiting for the lingering fears that nightmares always leave to disappear. Toby came in from the kitchen and handed Sam a pill and a glass of water. Sam took it gratefully; his head was pounding.

“Do you want anything?” Josh asked sitting down beside Sam. He shook his head in reply and closed his eyes. He had tried hard to control the shivers and was surprised that he was that cold. But as the shivers increased in intensity he realized his whole body was shaking and he couldn’t control it. Josh could feel it; he was sitting on the other end of the sofa but he could feel it. Toby could see it but neither of them moved. Sam’s body language was clearly telling them to stay away and so that is what they did. Eventually Sam turned around and faced Josh.

“I was thinking if I had a drink I would probably feel better, just one. Like drinking when you’re hung over.”

Toby stood up and walked over, “You’re a little more than hung-over Sam and anyway there isn’t any drink.”

“Well whose damn fault is that,” Sam shouted glaring at Josh, “treating me like I’m some sort of alcoholic.”

“You are ‘some’ sort of alcoholic, you’re the sort that is very nearly an alcoholic,” Josh reasoned.

“You’re a pre-alcoholic,” Toby joined in, “an alcoholic-in-waiting.”

Sam stood and walked slowly back to his bedroom. The blanket fell to the floor and he left it where it landed. Toby went into the kitchen and started to look through the cupboards as Josh watched him, “What are you looking for?”

“I’m going to fix us something to eat,” Toby answered distractedly.

Josh went back into the living room and started to flick through the channels trying to find something he could watch with the volume turned down. Eventually Toby emerged from the kitchen with two stuffed sandwiches. The two men ate in silence and pretended to be absorbed by the football game playing mutely in front of them. After a while Josh looked at his watch and decided Sam had spent long enough holed up in his bedroom. He stood and cleared away the plates so that Toby wouldn’t suspect what he was doing and then went straight to Sam’s room, ignoring Toby’s advice to leave Sam alone for a while longer.

When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room he walked over to the bed and quietly said his name. There was no answer and seeing that Sam was lying on top of the covers Josh debated going back to fetch the blanket. He reached slowly over and laid his hand on his arm trying to discover if he was hot or cold. The temperature became irrelevant as Josh realized Sam was shaking. He shook Sam who started to sit up in response, “I can’t s-stop shaking... this must be what h-happens when quasi-alcoholics s-stop drinking.”

“Shut-up Sam,” they weren’t the most comforting words Josh could think of but then finding himself wrapping his arms around Sam for the second time that day wasn’t the most uncomforting act either so Josh figured one made up for the other.

“Just so we know, this is right up there with pillow fluffing when it comes to things we will never mention again,” Josh clarified.

“I m-might bring it up if y-you...” Sam didn’t have the energy to finish his threat. The words trailed off. Occasionally he muttered something unintelligible but Josh just told him to shush. Eventually the shaking ceased and Sam fell asleep. Josh found himself between the headboard and Sam who was sitting almost upright against him. Josh tried to shift but found Sam was a dead-weight. He said Sam’s name quietly twice but he didn’t stir. He un-wrapped his arm from around him and flexed his hand, trying in vain to get the blood to return to it.

He couldn’t see the clock so he didn’t know how long he had been trapped on Sam’s bed before Toby finally entered the room, “I’m going to head off,” he explained.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll just be here...waiting for Sam to wake up...I haven’t been able to feel my legs for the past twenty minutes but I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about,” Josh explained.

“Push him off,”

“He’s asleep,” Josh explained in a whisper even though he and Toby had been speaking at full volume up until then.

“Oh for crying out loud, he’s dead to the world...” Toby sighed and walked over to the bed. Unceremoniously grabbing Sam’s ankles, he proceeded to pull him slowly off Josh and further down the bed. Satisfied with the maneuver Toby looked at Josh, “When he asked for a headache tablet-”

“You gave him a sleeping pill,” Josh finished for him, “So I’ve been lying here in agony and I could have rolled him off the bed and he wouldn’t have woken up.”

“You were asleep too,” Toby said. He didn’t tell Josh that he had checked on Sam twice since Josh had made his escape from the living room. Both times they had been asleep. The first time Sam had been restless but the second time he had checked both men had been still. Toby was secretly relieved that Josh had managed to move past his own troubled feelings that Sam’s situation had reopened for him. He had worried at first that he had been too hard on Josh but watching the two men sleep he had realized that he had been right. Sam needed Josh to be strong; God knew Sam had been there for Josh enough times. He watched Josh limping away from the bed flicking his arm in the air as if he could will the feeling back into his arm. Toby loitered for a while then told Josh to make sure Sam didn’t come into work the next day before he finally left Sam’s apartment. Josh shut the door and went again to check on Sam who was still fast asleep. He shut the door quietly behind him, changed his mind and opened it wide then pulled it too again but left it ajar before making his way to the spare room.


	12. Walking Wounded 12

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

Sam studied himself in the mirror. Apart from a bruise by the side of his eye, there were no visible signs on his face of the fight with Stephen. He tightened his belt choosing to ignore the fact that his recent weight loss had caused him to make a new hole in the leather. Sam smoothed down his jacket and then yanked off his tie and went back to his bedroom to choose another one. The new choice necessitated a different shirt and he started to hold the tie against possible choices.

“Oh this is ridiculous,” Sam grumbled as he grabbed the shirt that he always wore with the navy blue tie that he was holding. Sam had only been away from work for two days but it felt like his first day at school. He had not had a drink for five days and now that he had recovered from the physical withdrawal he found all he could think about was what he must have been acting like for the past few weeks. He knew that his friends and colleagues had been supportive but the thought that he had been skulking around the West Wing ignoring, or worse, offending them filled him with horror. And so on the first morning in several weeks that he was going into work sober, Sam felt a need to look as smart as he could in the hope that his appearance as well as his actions would convince everyone that the drinking and moping were a thing of the past.

He needn’t have worried. Nobody treated him any differently than they had been. He entered the Bullpen and was greeted by a smiling Ginger, holding out a cup of coffee for him.

“Did that tie come with the shirt?” she asked as she handed him the cup.

“No, Why?”

“It goes really well. The colors compliment each other,” she explained. Sam shrugged.

“Are you in a secret relationship?” Ginger asked.

“No,” Sam gave Ginger a quizzical look.

“I think you are- no man could match a tie and shirt that well.”

“I’m a catch,” Sam stated.

“Well you can certainly pick a shirt and tie,” Ginger assented.

Sam entered his office and started to flick through his messages. By the time Toby arrived he was half-way through a list of comments for an address that was being delivered next week. Toby walked into Sam’s office and peered over his shoulder at what he was writing.

“Good point...that’s a good point too...that’s a very good point but we can’t actually say it,” he continued to stand behind Sam.

“Well this is...unnerving,” Sam stopped writing and placed his pen on the desk, “Is there anything here that you don’t like?”

“No, and that’s making me feel...uncomfortable, so I’m going to go back to my office,” Toby walked towards the door, “Try and write something I won’t like Sam this is too weird for me.”

Sam continued to write and he didn’t stop until Ginger poked her head around the door to tell him it was time for staff.

Sam spoke up twice during the meeting, once to agree with CJ, and then to disagree with Josh. Everyone was so relieved to hear him joining in with the discussion that they devoted a considerable amount of time to Sam’s objection even though they had discussed and dealt with it earlier in the week.

When Leo dismissed everyone Sam stood first, “Before everyone goes I just wanted to say that I know I can’t have been easy to live with these past few-” Sam stopped in mid-flow as he caught sight of Josh, “Josh?”

“Yes,” he answered innocently.

“You’ve got your fingers in your ears,” Sam explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were going to apologize.”

“I was,” Sam said.

Josh put his fingers back in his ears, “Well tell me when you’re done.”

A slight smile crossed Leo’s lips before he addressed Sam, “No one in this room wants to hear an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Okay well, thanks, but I really think I-”

“Sam,” this time Leo stopped him, “do you really want to witness the indignity of the Chief of Staff sticking his fingers in his ears?”

“No I really don’t Leo but I still think-”

“Sam!” Toby warned.

“I just feel I should-”

“Sam!” CJ joined the chorus.

Sam held his hands up, “Okay, okay but can I at least say I’m sorry that I hit Josh.”

“You could but I think that’s definitely covered under ‘you have nothing to apologize for’,” Leo answered.

Toby fought a smile at the look of incredulity on Josh’s face.

“Well I definitely need to apologize for getting drunk at a White House dinner,” Sam offered.

“Well you know even there I’m not sure you do,” Leo turned to the others, “I mean was that me or up until Sam took center stage wasn’t that the most boring night of your life?”

“It ranked pretty high,” CJ agreed, “Hey! I’ve just thought of something you need to apologize for- you let me be bored to death by farmers.”

Before Sam could defend himself Leo ordered everyone out of the office. Sam hung back though, “I really am sorry you know.”

“If I didn’t think you were you wouldn’t be back at work,” Leo nodded and Sam was dismissed.

* * *

Toby watched as Sam refilled his coffee cup. He walked towards Ginger’s desk, adjusted the computer monitor and then walked back to his office, he then sat down at his desk before returning to Ginger’s desk to pick up his cup that he had left there. He walked back to his office but this time stood staring at the books on the shelf. Toby came in to find him reordering his legal books.

“Did you eat?” Toby asked.

“Yeah,” Sam knew Toby had been watching him milling around the Bullpen for the last ten minutes, “I was just wondering if you still had...I was thinking I might be ready to...I was...,” Sam sighed loudly then stood up straight, “Do you still have Mrs Walsh’s telephone number?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll get it,” Toby went back to his office and grabbed the piece of paper that had been stuck to his computer since Claire’s mother had phoned. He handed it silently to Sam and left his office shutting the door behind him. Sam sat behind his desk and stared at the number. He fingered his tie absently and then removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He knew there was no need to lock the door; Toby would make sure he wasn’t disturbed. He pulled the blinds down though and sat at his desk for a while before he suddenly sat up and grabbed for the receiver.

Toby sat perched on Ginger’s desk. He was going through the pretence of listening to her reel off the week’s appointments but really he was guarding Sam’s office making sure nobody tried to enter until Sam emerged. When he finally did, Sam had his coat on, “I’m just going to go for a walk- get some air,” he started to head out of the Bullpen but then stopped, walked back to Toby and handed him his wallet. Toby took it wordlessly placing it in his pocket as he watched Sam walk hurriedly away.

* * *

Sam returned to find Toby sitting in his office. He walked over to the guest chair and sat down.

“Alright?” Toby asked.

Sam nodded and closed his eyes, “I walked and walked and before I knew it I was in China-town.”

“You walked there and back?” Toby asked incredulously.

“No I had my metro card,” Sam smiled at Toby’s shocked expression at the thought of walking that far.

Josh entered the office and looked confused at the seating arrangements, “Are you doing role play?”

Sam ignored him, “I was thinking, while I was on my route march, maybe I should do something, a memorial or something...I don’t know it was just an idea.”

“No that’s a good idea. I think Mrs Walsh would appreciate that.”

Josh stayed silent as he realized he had obviously missed something.

Sam nodded slowly, “I thought so too,” Sam leant forward and rested his head in his hands, “She said Stephen was sorry. He felt bad about what happened. I told her to make sure he knew it was my fault. I taunted him.”

“What did she say?” Toby asked.

“That he knew it but he was still sorry.”

Josh worked out that Sam had obviously spoken to Claire’s mother. He stayed silent though sensing that Sam had more to say.

“We’ve arranged to meet later this week. She said there were things that needed saying and there were things she needed to know,” Sam sighed and straightened again, “Do I make something up? Do you think she expects me to tell her Claire’s last words?”

“What were they?” Josh almost whispered the question.

“Claire,” Sam shrugged, “I asked her what her name was. That was all she said to me,” Sam suddenly became anxious, “But really though do I tell her that? Do I tell her that she was in pain and looked petrified? Wouldn’t it be better if she didn’t know that her daughter died hurting and scared and in the arms of a stranger?”

Sam looked to Toby and so Josh left it to him to answer. After some thought he looked up at Sam, “I would think it would be a comfort to know that she didn’t die alone,” Toby waited until Sam was looking at him before he continued. “I can’t tell you what to say. You’ll know when you meet her. You’ll know what to say to her.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered quietly then he sat up straighter and repeated in a louder voice, “Yeah, I’ll just...wait and see.”

The days passed slowly for Sam while he waited for the meeting with Claire’s mother. Toby often found him staring into space and although the panic attacks seemed to be a thing of the past Sam still got very agitated over things that he would normally take in his stride. For Toby the day of the meeting couldn’t arrive soon enough.

* * *

“You told us not to get them again,” Ginger said but her tone indicated to Toby that it was something she had said to Sam a few times already.

When Toby had left the Bullpen Sam had been working at his desk but now he was standing, hands on hips, facing Ginger who looked like if she had a tether she would be holding the end of it.

“Once in a fit of Post-it rage I said not to get them. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t think you would actually stop ordering them.”

“You said mini Post-its were a travesty of stationary and that if Action Man had a speech writer even he would say they were too small.”

“You know you’re meant to know when I’m being serious and when I’m just venting,” Sam countered.

“If you’re so desperate for small Post-its then just cut up the larger ones.”

“Cut up the larger ones?” Sam started pacing, “Cut up the larger ones? It doesn’t occur to you that I might have better things to do that cutting up Post-its?”

“Well you seem to have time to stand here and argue about them,” Ginger pointed out.

“Ginger, order some damn mini Post-its, Sam go into my office,” Toby ordered.

Sam walked reluctantly into Toby’s office and sat down on the sofa, “The idea that I would order some sort of mass culling of Post-its is...well it’s just-”

“If you say the word Post-it again I’m going to demote you to head of office supplies,” Toby watched Sam as he forced himself to calm down, “You don’t have to meet her, if you’ve changed her mind...you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Sam slumped back and rubbed his hand over his face, “I do want to. I can’t put it off. Anyway it wouldn’t be fair to cancel now.”

“Get your stuff and work in here and try to calm down before tonight or Mrs Walsh is going to think she’s meeting with a maniac.”

Sam nodded and looked up at Toby.

“Calm down,” Toby reiterated.

“Yeah...I’m gonna go get my stuff,” Sam stopped at the door, “Head of office supplies- would that be for the Bullpen or the whole of the West Wing?”

Toby sat behind his desk and started leafing through a file, “You see how good I’m getting at ignoring that sort of comment...it’s like you didn’t even say it.”

Sam spent the rest of the afternoon in Toby’s office and by the end of it he had managed to calm down.

* * *

Sam arrived early at the Hotel. The foyer was quiet, as he had hoped it would be. He went over to the bar and ordered a soda and then went in search of a secluded spot where they could sit. Toby had made him eat lunch but he hadn’t eaten since and he wondered if having something now would stop his stomach from churning. He chose a seat by the windows that overlooked a courtyard. He immediately set about trying to force one of the windows open. He thought the room was excessively hot.

Eventually Sam sat down. At first he sat facing the bar but watching people ordering and drinking was too tempting so he moved and sat in the chair facing the wall. He then thought Claire’s mother might prefer to sit not facing the bar so he moved again and kept his gaze away from the bar.

He had been watching people going in and out of the elevators so he didn’t see Mrs Walsh enter the bar and walk over to him, “Mr Seaborn? I’m Catherine Walsh. It’s good of you to meet me I know you must be busy,” she took in the rattled appearance and pale complexion of the man seated before her, “Would you be more comfortable outside?”

Sam sighed deeply and shot Mrs Walsh a disarming smile, “Yes thank you, I think I probably would.”


	13. Walking Wounded 13

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

* * *

Sam held the chair as Catherine sat down and then sat at the table beside her. He took a sip of his drink and then spluttered and coughed as with embarrassment he suddenly realized she did not have one.

"I'm so sorry let me get you a drink," Sam hurried towards the bar but turned around before he reached the door and walked back to the table, "I'm sorry what would you like?"

Catherine smiled up at him and put her hand over her eyes to shade them from the sun, "A dry white wine please."

Sam smiled again, walked away and spent a while longer at the bar than necessary as he thought about Toby's earlier advice, 'I mean it Sam, don't go in all upset. You'll start mumbling lunatic things, probably knock a glass over, embark on an apology-rant and frighten the hell out of Mrs Walsh’.  Sam picked up the two glasses, took a deep breath and made his way back to the table.

Catherine was reading the menu. She had put on her glasses and peered over them to look at Sam as he placed the drinks down, "Have you eaten Mr Seaborn?"

"Sam- I'm fine but if you want something..."

"No, no I was just reading this and I was making myself hungry," she laughed nervously placing the menu down on the empty chair beside her. Sam took his phone from his pocket and switched it off.

"I would switch mine off too but nobody ever phones me," Catherine laughed again but this time there were no nerves, "Stephen insisted I have one but I don't think I've used it more than twice since I got it."

Sam found himself wondering if she had used it on the day her daughter had died, if Stephen had phoned her to tell her, if she had phoned Stephen from the hospital on it.

"Mr Seaborn-"

"Sam."

"Sam, I appreciate you agreeing to meet me. I'm sure this can not be easy for you," Catherine stopped talking and Sam dragged his gaze away from the intricately designed metal table top, "I asked you to meet me because I want to know... no... I need to know what happened. Now that a little time has passed and it will be bearable for me to hear and I hope less painful for you to say."

Sam clasped his hands and rested them on the table, "Mrs Walsh-"

"Catherine," she interrupted. The two of them exchanged a smile at the awkwardness of the situation.

"Catherine," Sam began again, "Before I tell you, are you sure that's what you want? Because once I've said the words you'll have the pictures in your head and I... well I...  I just wondered if you're sure you want the pictures."

"I've read police reports, I've listened to her friend's description, I've spoken to the doctors at the hospital and I've read endless numbers of eye-witness accounts and each time the reality has been far less horrific than the nightmares which are keeping me awake. I only have one nightmare now and it's relentless; I dream about what happened when she died because it's the only part of that day that I have no 'pictures' for."

Sam was relieved that Catherine had made it clear that she didn't expect him to lie but at the same time he was filled with a sense of dread at the thought of finally having to talk about what had happened in those few moments on a rainy day two months ago.

Sam clasped his hands and placed them in his lap. He sighed deeply before starting, "I don't remember much before the... I was just driving... Toby-  he's my boss, the one you spoke to," Catherine nodded, "he was waiting for me. I had some notes he needed, they were on the seat next to me."

Catherine waited patiently while Sam tried to find a way to start, "I don't remember much about what happened before. It was sunny and it started to rain.  I remember thinking there would be a rainbow."

"There was," Catherine told him, "I was in my garden looking at it when the phone rang..." she trailed off and Sam moved his hands off the table and onto his lap, "You don't need to tell me that part of it. Claire's friend has told me that."

"How is she?" Sam asked. He had often wondered about the other girl who had stood screaming as she had pointed in horror at the scene beside Sam's car.

"She's doing-," if he was going to tell the truth Catherine realized he deserved to be told it too, "She's not doing too well. She has gone to stay with her mother in Queens. When I spoke to her last it was like talking to a stranger."

"She was screaming," Sam spoke too quietly for her to hear.

"I'm sorry?"

He placed his clasped hands back on the table and leant forward, "She was screaming and pointing and I looked, then I saw her, and I didn't know, I didn't know because I thought it was Claire's friend that I had hit,"

"Sam,"

"-and I was thinking it was okay because she was just screaming, that was all,"

"Sam,"

"-and then I saw her and I-"

"Sam!" Finally Catherine's voice broke through to Sam. He continued to stare at the floor although his eyes seemed to be viewing the image of a different scene. He felt her hand close around his and he lifted his head and turned to face her.

"You haven't spoken about this before have you."

Sam shook his head and Catherine waited. He didn't remove his hands from beneath hers.

"When I saw her I went over and she was...they say not to move someone don't they so I didn't. I held her hand."

"Did she see you? I mean did she know you were there?"

"Yes, I asked her what her name was and told her mine. Then I... that's when I moved her so that her head was on my lap... I wanted her to know I was there,"

"You knew she was going to die," she stated.

"She looked at me and she squeezed my hand."

"She knew you were there?" she asked again.

"Yes she knew... she looked at me... she was looking at me when-"

Sam took a deep breath, "She squeezed my hand and we were looking at each other, then she stopped squeezing... she closed her eyes... she stopped looking..."

They sat in silence for a long time, holding hands, letting the gentle murmur of conversation drift over them. Eventually Catherine tightened her hold on Sam's hands forcing him to look at her, "Thank you," she said.

Sam smiled in response, he had no words left.

* * *

Sam was offering Catherine a ride home when the blast of a car horn made them both jump. Stephen was waving frantically to his mother, an exasperated look on his face. The car behind him started beeping continuously and Stephen shouted through the window, "I'll have to go around again, cross over to the other side, I can't stop here."

"Oh dear, poor Stephen he does get himself into a state. I told him it would be awkward to pick me up here," she was smiling as she spoke, shaking her head at her overbearing son, "He's become quite protective of me since Claire died."

The car horn sounded again and Stephen held his hands up in the air as he saw that his mother and Sam had failed to cross the road as he had instructed. Sam took Catherine by the arm and waited for a gap in the traffic before leading her over to the other side of the road. The cars behind Stephen were already hooting and there was only time for them to shake hands before she clambered into the car. She waved at Sam as the car pulled away. As he passed, Stephen nodded. Sam returned the gesture. He turned quickly and walked back to his own car. Once inside he collapsed back in the seat. It had been light when he had parked but it was pitch black now. As he drove out of the parking rack his phone bleeped almost immediately. Toby, who had given up waiting patiently, had left four messages for Sam. He pulled up as soon as he could and called him back.

"Where are you?" Toby asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

"I'm just leaving... are you... can I come over?"

"Yeah, I'm just about to order pizza; do you want some? I can wait until you get here."

"Yeah that would be great. Thanks Toby."

"That's okay.  It's the least I can do after you've had me sitting here worried sick all evening."

Sam smiled, "Sorry I was... thinking. I was in the car park and couldn't get a reception."

Okay, I'll see you soon, hurry up I'm hungry," Toby grumbled and added as an afterthought, "You're coming straight here- I mean you're not going to get someone to beat you up on the way?"

"Just order the pizza will you," Sam hung up, not in the slightest way offended by Toby's comment. He had shown his concern and understanding for Sam in more ways than he could count over the past few weeks. He signaled, and slowly pulled back into the stream of traffic.

Toby's door was open when he arrived. He knew what pizzas Sam preferred so he had gone ahead and ordered. When Sam arrived he was busy opening the boxes and pouring some beers.

"I'm allowed beer?" Sam asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"You're allowed two beers."

"Excellent," Sam reached for one of the glasses.

They sat watching the football game. Toby knew Sam would talk about what had happened eventually and he became engrossed in the game allowing Sam to eat in silence. When he had finished he stood up and went to take Sam's plate and was just in time to catch it as it slipped from his lap. Sam was fast asleep and Toby was loathe to wake him from what he was sure was his first peaceful rest in the last few days. He washed up and then came and sat down again, watching the game and wondering how long it would be before Sam woke up.

It was two hours. The game had finished and Toby was catching up on emails when Sam finally woke, apologizing profusely for inviting himself over and then falling asleep.

"Don't worry about it," Toby waved his hand in the air, "Do you want to tell me what happened now?"

"Have I had my second beer yet?"

Toby fetched another two beers from the kitchen and sat down on a chair opposite Sam. It only took a few moments for Sam to start talking and once he did he couldn't stop. He told Toby everything that he had said to Catherine. How amazed he was at her composure, how relieved he was when Stephen acknowledged him from his car. He then told him what had happened that morning. Toby didn't say a word, at one point he took Sam's beer from him and told him to slow down. Sam wasn't sure if he meant drinking or talking so he took a deep sigh and carried on, "I can't remember what happened between there and getting to the White House, I don't suppose I ever will. What happened in Leo's office?"

The question took Toby by surprise. He was so absorbed by Sam's account of that day that he wasn't expecting to have to give his own. It was Sam's turn to listen now. Josh had told him what had happened but he knew that he was leaving things out. Toby told him everything. He told Sam how he had strolled into the meeting and handed him the papers, how he had felt sick when he'd seen the blood on them and sicker still when he had seen it on Sam. He told him about the suspicious policeman and how Josh had threatened him, Leo's attempt to keep him in the White House and Josh's frustration at not being allowed to go to the hospital. He told Sam how he had cried out and how it had made him feel more helpless than when he'd found Josh. He explained that the President tried to get into Leo's office when he heard Sam wailing but the agents had heard it too and had burst into the Oval Office surrounding him until the source of the noise was identified and by then Sam was being led away by the paramedics.

Sam sat in silence when Toby had finished. Toby thought he looked even more tired than he had before. Eventually he sat forward and rubbed his hands over his face. When he looked up again he raised his eyebrows and asked, "I suppose a small whiskey would be out of the question?"

Toby shook his head, "You know what, in this case, I actually think it might be the answer," he poured them both a measure and they sat in silence drinking and watching a muted episode of Bilko.

"He's even funny with the sound turned down," Sam mused.

"Yeah," The two men smiled as Bilko huddled his men around him, concocting some ridiculous plan.

"I think I'm going to be alright," Sam suddenly stated.

"I think you are too," Toby agreed, and as the television showed a shot of Bilko's bemused face he leaned over and held his glass out. Sam held his out to meet it and the two men stared at each other as their glasses chinked. Both of them smiled, one with a sense of peace that he hadn't known for weeks and the other with relief on recognizing it in his friend's face.


	14. Walking Wounded 14

**Walking Wounded**

**by:** Coupdepam

For notes and disclaimers see chapter one.

The President stopped reading and took off his glasses. It was dawn and the sound of the birds' song was too beautiful to be ignored. He walked out onto the portico and tried in vain to match the songs to the birds that he could actually see. Charlie looked around the office before finding him outside, "Sir."

"Are they here?"

"They've just arrived,"

"Okay," he walked back into the room and picked up his coat, "Who's there?"

"Sam, Mrs Walsh, Stephen Walsh-"

"Her brother?" Bartlet interrupted.

"Yes and Ruth Powell. She was the girl that was jogging with Claire Walsh."

"Ruth?"

"Yes sir,"

"It's beautiful, have you seen it?"

"Not yet," Charlie held the door open, the President walked out and set off briskly towards Lafeyette Park flanked by his secret service agents.

* * *

Toby stood and watched as the President walked across the lawn in front of the White House. He could see Sam in the distance waiting for him to arrive. It had been three weeks since Sam had met with Claire’s mother and in that time the old Sam had began to re-emerge. His writing had regained its fluency and flair, he joined in with discussions and more importantly seemed interested in them. He was eating, sleeping and, to Toby’s great relief, drinking normally again. Since the night that he had told Toby what had happened the morning Claire had died, Sam had opened up to Josh and CJ as well.

Through all of this Toby was still holding his breath though. Sam was going to be alright, of that he now had no doubt, but it wasn’t going to happen overnight. The first thing Toby did to speed up the process was to arrange for him to visit the doctor that Mrs Bartlet had recommended. Sam had managed to hide the pain that the whiplash still caused him but he wasn’t so good at hiding the headaches.

_“Are you going to meet with Josh?” Sam asked as he leaned against the doorjamb._

_Toby nodded distractedly, “If I can find the damn...Ginger!” he bellowed._

_Sam flinched and waited until she had located the file and left Toby’s office before continuing, “May I use your sofa while you’re gone?”_

_Toby finally looked up at Sam and took in the pale complexion and squinting eyes._

_“No you may not,” he turned his attention back to checking the contents of the file._

_“Oh,” Sam was taken aback by Toby’s refusal, “That’s...has somebody already booked it?”_

_Toby started to flick through his diary pretending to look for ‘sofa bookings’, “Let’s see have I got any other idiots who refuse to take their medication or see a doctor wanting to use my sofa today? No,” Toby slammed the diary shut, “It’s just you.”_

_“Oh I get it, well that’s...you win...phone the damn doctor, make an appointment. I know- why don’t you see if the First Lady’s free and she can take me herself, I’m sure you’re keeping her up to date-” Sam suddenly stopped talking. His knuckles were pale where he was holding onto the door so tightly. Toby thought he looked a little paler than he had when he’d started his rant too, “Right I really need your sofa because there’s two of you standing in front of me now and I’m sure there was only one when I came in here.”_

_Toby walked around his desk trying not to look victorious. He stood in front of the sofa and held out his hand._

_“What’s that?” Sam asked._

_“It’s my hand,” Toby replied matter-of-factly._

_“Oh,” Sam replied as he let go of the door and lost his balance slightly before taking it._

_Toby left a sleeping Sam in his office and went next door to use his phone. He phoned both of the doctors that the First Lady had recommended. He was sure Sam wouldn’t mind, after all, he had said to phone the doctor, it wasn’t Toby’s fault if he didn’t know whether he meant the pain specialist or the psychoanalyst._

Toby walked closer to the edge of the White House’s lawn but made sure he couldn’t be seen by the small crowd. Sam had seen both doctors since the confrontation in Toby’s office. One of them stated that a few weeks of physiotherapy would soon solve a lot of the pain Sam was experiencing. The other’s prognosis was for a longer period but he also assured Sam that his pain would lessen with time.

The president had reached the small group now and Toby suddenly felt like he was intruding. He turned back towards the White House resisting the urge to turn around and watch as the President greeted Mrs Walsh.

* * *

Catherine Walsh stopped talking to Stephen as she watched the President approaching them at a pace that surprised her. She was amused at the site of his agents who seemed to be finding it difficult to keep up. Then she spied a man talking into his sleeve on the edge of the green and then another keeping a close watch from the end of the path and she smiled at the thought that this could be considered just a ‘stroll in the park’ for the President. When Sam had first contacted her about his idea she had been speechless but when she had discovered that the President wanted to be involved Stephen had to take the phone from her and continue the conversation with Sam. At first Stephen had been sceptical about it until he had found out that there would be no publicity and that it had been arranged for as early as possible in the morning to minimise any obvious disruption caused by the closure of the Park.

Catherine looked at her son who stood next to Sam. The two men had met earlier in the week to finalise arrangements and she had been proud of how Stephen had handled the meeting and resolved his issues with Sam. Standing between her and Stephen was Ruth. The news of Sam’s plan had been enough to cause her to return to Washington and end her self-imposed exile to Queens. Catherine’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam greeting the President and she looked up as she heard her name to find the President smiling warmly and holding out his hand. She shook hands with him and watched as her son and Ruth were introduced.

“Mrs Walsh, I am sure you appreciate the necessity of keeping this brief but I want you to know that I was honoured when Sam told me that you had agreed to my being here today. I understand that Sam will be giving you a tour of the White House later. I have arranged for the Chairman of the White House Historical Association to accompany you as well. Sam is a brilliant speech writer but believe me he knows very little about the White House.”

Mrs Walsh smiled and thanked the President. Bartlet liked her immediately and told Sam to make sure that he included a visit to the Oval office later on so that, if circumstances allowed, he could sit and talk to her and Stephen some more. He glanced at Sam and sensing his nervousness moved quickly so that he was standing in front of the small group.

“Mrs Walsh, Stephen, Ruth,” Bartlet began, “When Sam told me what he planned to do here this morning I admit I questioned if it would be something that you would be comfortable with. It didn’t take long for him to persuade me that it was. I understand that you had told him how Claire used to jog by the White House most mornings and then rest here before jogging home. Sam knew this was the exact spot because you described it so well. I know that Sam told you about the bench but I suspect he didn’t tell you that it is hand carved Teak and is one of a kind.”

“No, he didn’t Mr President,” Catherine smiled again and took hold of Ruth’s hand.

Bartlet walked over to the bench that was covered with a drape. He took hold of the end of the cover and pulled it carefully back to reveal the bench that Sam had spent so long deliberating over. Silence greeted the unveiling. Sam looked nervously at his companions’ faces trying to gauge their reaction. It was Ruth who broke the silence that had descended, “She would have loved it,” she declared and Stephen and Catherine agreed with her.

“When I jogged with her we always stopped here, she used to like to sit and look at the White House. She used to like to think of all the people working away inside while we were out here lying on the grass,” Ruth laughed quietly at the memory.

“I know,” Sam said as he walked towards Ruth, “Catherine told me about how Claire spent more time sitting here than actually jogging.”

It was the first time Sam had seen Ruth since the morning of the accident. He looked at her and remembered her screams and wondered if she was remembering what he had looked like that morning, “There’s an inscription,” Sam pointed to the brass plaque on the back of the bench that had been placed to face the White House and Ruth walked nearer to it.

“I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours,” Ruth smiled at Sam’s choice of quote, “That’s perfect...she’d laugh if she...she’d have loved it,” Ruth finished reading the rest of the inscription, “In memory of Claire Walsh 1977- 2002.”

Stephen walked up to Sam and held out his hand, “Thank you...I feel I should have something profound to say but Claire was always better with words than me.”

“Mrs Walsh would you like to walk back to the White House with me?” The President asked. It was, of course, a rhetorical question. Stephen, Ruth and Sam followed the President and Catherine back across the park and onto the front lawn of the White House.

* * *

“Do you have anything to say about this room Mr Seaborn or shall I carry on?” the beleaguered Chairman asked. Sam had tried to join in with the tour but it had become increasingly clear that his knowledge of the history of the White House was indeed poor.

“No but I could tell you an interesting story about that fireplace,” Sam offered.

Ruth, Stephen and Catherine listened with interest as their guide regaled them with anecdotes about the room they were standing in. When he had finished Ruth turned to Sam, “I’d really like to hear the fireplace story. It sounds like something the tour guides might want to add to their programme in the future.”

Sam began an earnest but unwittingly comical tale of how he and the Deputy Chief of Staff had nearly set fire to the White House. When he was finished Charlie came in to tell them that the President had five minutes if they were finished.

“Charlie,” Sam called him into the room, “You were here- am I, or am I not, correct in saying that The President was ‘misled’ when he was told about the fire in this room being started by me and that the deputy Chief of Staff had just a big as role in it?”

“I don’t recall Josh Lyman being there at all Sam,” Charlie lied as he began to lead Catherine towards the Oval Office.

As they reached the outer office and their guide said his goodbyes Sam grabbed his arm as he was turning to leave, “If that story does become part of the tour you might want to mention that it was me ‘and’ Josh Lyman the Deputy Chief of Staff who started the fire. In fact the kerosene was his idea so really...” Sam shrugged as the door to the Oval Office opened and he followed Catherine, her son and her daughter’s best friend into the room.

* * *

After they had left the White House Sam returned to his office and closed the door. He stood by the window and didn’t turn around when Toby knocked and entered.

“They liked it?” he shut the door but stayed standing in front of it.

“Yeah, Ruth especially, I think it really helped her,” Sam said.

“And Mrs Walsh- what did she think?”

“She liked it too,” Sam took his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms, “Stephen looked...I was going to say ‘well’ but that’s not it- he looked...”

“Stronger,” Toby offered.

“Yes,” Sam agreed.

“Good,” Toby walked closer to Sam, “And you? Are you stronger?”

“I think so,” Sam unfolded his arms and turned to face Toby, “I still feel guilty, I think I always will, but I’m not looking to be punished. I don’t see her like I did. See, she was haunting me, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her,” Sam turned back and faced the window. It had started raining a while ago and it was lashing heavily against the window, “This is the first time I have been able to listen to the rain without seeing her hurtling towards me,” he confessed.

“I still feel sick if I hear a car back-fire,” Toby said quietly. Sam turned at his admission. He knew Toby was referring to Rosslyn and he also knew that it had taken a lot for Toby to say that to him. He smiled and was stopped from responding by Josh’s entrance.

“The press have already sniffed out your bench. They were taking photos until ‘rain stopped play’,” Josh threw himself into Sam’s chair and Sam walked around his desk and sat in the chair opposite. Toby stayed by the window.

“Hey guys, guess what I’m about to be asked in the briefing,” CJ flitted gracefully around the doorjamb and into the office.

“Is sex better than chocolate?” Josh offered.

CJ ignored him, “Sam, any ideas,”

“Let’s see, how about- CJ, can you tell us if Sam Seaborn has anything to do with the bench in Lafeyette Park that is dedicated to the memory of Claire Walsh?”

CJ pointed at Sam, “That’s a good question and I’m glad you asked. And I can tell you that the WBC will be meeting-”

“WBC?” Sam interrupted.

“Washington Bench Committee,” CJ explained, “The WBC will be meeting on Tuesday to try to answer just that question.”

Toby smiled, impressed once again with CJ’s ability to turn ‘no comment’ into a fabrication that made him suddenly panic that he hadn’t written a statement either for or against it already.

Sam shook his head and smiled also.

Josh looked slightly confused, “I don’t think...I’ve never heard...okay- is there a committee for benches in Washington?”

His statement was greeted by the sound of Sam’s laughter. CJ joined in and shook her head at Josh.

“Well I think you should go with the chocolate thing then,” Josh continued unperturbed,” It’s topical- 70% of women when asked said they preferred chocolate to sex.”

CJ picked up her notes that she had placed on Sam’s desk, “Well, they must be buying really good chocolate and having really bad sex,” she replied as she left the room and headed for the briefing room.

Sam looked at Josh and considered saying something to console him when Toby’s sudden movement caught his attention. Although it was still raining the sun had come out and was streaming through the window straight into Toby’s eyes.

“Let’s go for a drink. I’ll tell Carol to tell CJ where we’re going. But we can’t be long Sam we have to write that speech for the WBC when we get back,” Toby started to move away but noticed that Sam’s gaze was fixed on the window where he had been standing. Josh stood and went to get his coat mumbling something about it not surprising him if there really was a committee for benches.

“You coming?” Toby asked Sam. He opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again.

“What?” Toby asked.

“It’s nothing,” Sam finally turned away from the window and started to follow Toby. He suddenly stopped and turned towards the window again pausing before he quietly said, “There’s going to be a rainbow.”

He followed Toby out of his office and shut the door.

THE END


End file.
